Tender
by bauerfreak
Summary: Snickers fluff for all you Snicker lovers out there. Sara is injured at a crime scene and is being stubborn about her medical care.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, I guess I've been in more of a romantic, sweet Nick mood the last few days, and have been neglecting my chapter stories. I'll update soon! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm not sure whether to just leave this how it is, or maybe turn it into a two shot, or even a mini-epic (4 or 5 chaps, maybe?). So, I need your help deciding. Thanks for reading!

I couldn't believe how careless and stupid I had been. I mean, one minute, I was investigating a crime scene, and the next, I felt a huge, sharp pain down my side. There was blood…blood everywhere. I got blood all over the evidence, dammit!

The suspect had returned to the crime scene. He snuck through a side window and saw me poking around, and I guess he panicked. Warrick had been with me, but he was in another room. The scumbag gashed me down the side with a knife, from my waist, almost down to the edge of my bottom. Warrick heard the commotion and found me, called an ambulance, but by the time he'd tended to me, the suspect got away.

But I know the team will catch him. When one of their own is injured, you'd be amazed at how quick, fast, and determined they are. Not that they don't give their all when it's a stranger, but they go above and beyond. I saw it when I was called in after Holly Gribbs' attack. And though I was ordered by Grissom to take a week off, and now I was stuck at home, bored out of my mind, I knew the team was hard at work back at the fort.

Ellen DeGeneres had just finished, so I was flipping through the channels, because I hate Days of Their Lives. Overdramatic fluffy crap! I heard a knock at the door, and I groaned because that meant I had to get up. I winced and grabbed at my right side, all bandaged up under the old t-shirt I was wearing, and hobbled over to the door.

Nick stood at my door, smiling, holding a beautiful vase filled with daffodils, and two huge chocolate bars. God love him. He must have come straight from work, dressed in his business-casual black trousers and a gray long-sleeved shirt.

"Hey, handicapped one." He joked, giving me a kiss on the cheek as he walked in. I smiled as I closed and locked the door once again, and he put the flowers down on the coffee table. As I walked over, I leaned down to smell the flowers, and a sharp pain jolted through my side.

"Ow!"

"Are you okay, Sar?" He asked quickly, ever concerned with my well-being. Truthfully, it still hurt like hell, even with the pain killers, but I always try to put on my tough girl persona. But Nick sees through my brave face, and gently grips my upper arm, leading me to sit back down on the couch.

"There you go. Just take it easy."

Nick watched me for a few moments, and my face relaxed again as the pain subsided. When he saw I was actually okay, he reached again for the chocolate bars, unwrapping one for me.

"I brought something to make you feel better." He smirked as he handed it to me. Cadbury's Dairy Milk, my favorite. Nick knows these little things about me that no one else knows, because he's the only one that takes the time to ask. He knows my favorite chocolate, beverages (alcoholic and non), movie (Return to Me), and actor (George Eads is HOT!). Nick has always been a great friend to me, and the only colleague that has come to visit me during my time off.

I smiled widely through my tired, aching body, and took the chocolate appreciatively. After eating two pieces myself, I broke off a piece and Nick gladly let me feed it to him.

"So, what have you been up to during your vacation." He emphasized the last word, knowing it was the farthest thing from quality time off I had ever experienced.

"Hardly a vacation. I don't know, just reading, surfing the Internet, playing Solitaire on my computer." I admitted. Hardly the way I would like to spend a week off.

"I hope they weren't forensics books and websites." He raised his eyebrows questioningly, knowing my workaholic tendencies well. I smiled sheepishly, affirming my guilt.

"Sar, you've gotta regroup. Get away from work this whole week. You've still got five more days left."

"I know, but…" I moved to put the chocolate back on the table, and the sharp pain returned. I grabbed my side and couldn't help but let a sharp intake of breath escape me. It was so intense, that I felt tears stinging at my eyes. But I wasn't about to cry in front of Nick Stokes.

"Hey, hey." He gently grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to sit back. "Sar, you need to relax. Do you have anyone taking care of you?"

I couldn't blame him for being concerned. I'd hurt myself twice now since he'd been here, and he'd only arrived five minutes ago. But I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself.

"Nick, I'm fine. I just hit it a little funny, that's all." I brushed it off, but the pounding pain was still subsiding.

Nick was silent for a few moments, as if he were contemplating whether to do or say something. He had to buy my story, because that's what I do. I explain my pain away to anyone who dare asks.

"When was the last time you took pain medication?"

I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed sigh, as if I were offended he asked. I don't like the way the medication makes me feel. It makes my whole body feel numb, and I can't think straight. It makes me forget too much. I'd rather be in pain than not feel like I was there at all.

"Sar…"

"It…It's been a little while, becau…"

"How long?" He asked me seriously.

I stopped all my protesting and decided to give in. He thinks he's saving me or something, but I'd rather just be left alone to handle myself.

"Not since the hospital." I admitted. Nick let out a disappointed cough and his eyes were studying me. I feel strangely uncomfortable, but safe, when he does that. It's kind of cute that he's concerned about me, but no one has ever looked at me like that before, and it scares me.

"How about your bandages?"

Changing my bandages is difficult to do with one person. My gash is mostly on my side, but travels a little ways towards my back. It's hard to tape it down, and so therefore, it doesn't get changed as much as it should. I know I should be dressing it often, but asking someone else for help is just beyond me. Friends, you ask? Haven't really made any good ones since I moved here, because I'm always working. The last few days has been a rude awakening for me, as I have realized there's no one in this town I can call for help, or just to talk. The closest thing I have to a friend would be…well, Nick.

"I…It's hard to get to, so…"

"Let me see." Nick requested, moving a little closer. I was slightly worried, and maybe offended, that he just expected me to show him my wound, even with the bandage covered. I mean, it is kind of in an intimate spot. Not one that has been readily viewable at work. Sure, maybe he's caught a glimpse of my back and side and lower torso in general, when I change in the unisex locker room. But he's in my living room, and isn't that a little…inappropriate?

"What? No!" I squirmed a little bit away from him, and the sharp pain came back, and I winced once again. Nick gave me an amused look, as I tried to think of a good excuse for this not to happen.

"Sar, you need to take care of yourself. And can you honestly say you have been?"

"Nick."

"Let me just check it. I can help you change your bandage. I'm sure it must be…awkward to change it yourself."

"I'm fine. I can do it myself."

Nick surprisingly put his hand on top of my head, and took my hand in his other. I was a little puzzled by this move and I looked at him a little funny, I'm sure.

"Sara, you don't always have to be tough as nails. You've been through an ordeal, here, and I'm just trying to help. Besides, do you want to have to take more time off because you're not healed? Because you know we won't let you work if you're not well enough." Nick explained patiently, watching my face become a bundle of emotions.

I hadn't thought of it that way. It felt strangely good to have someone this concerned about me. But it was hard to let him in. I know he means well, but I can't get hurt, especially by someone at work. I mean, sadly, my work is my life, and I can't have my one escape get all weird and uncomfortable. What if I let him in, and he let me down like so many others have? I'd have to see him every day at work, and that would be torture. But as he looked lovingly and protectively into my eyes, I somehow doubt he would do that to me.

"I…I guess it would be a good idea to change my bandage." I managed to get out, hoping that he wasn't seeing how vulnerable I felt right now. I hadn't shown any part of my body to anyone in a long time, and it was unnerving. Everyone knows Nick's reputation as a ladies' man. He's probably seen dozens of naked women, and he'd probably compare me to them. I'm tall and lanky, and…unattractive, really.

"Okay. Good. I'm glad you're letting me help you, Sar. I know it's hard." He stood up off the couch, and gave my hand a squeeze. "Why don't you lie down on your left side, sweetheart." Nick instructed me. I felt a combination of nervousness and the feeling of knowing I was in safe, good hands. I started to move, and then I paused. I know Nick is a perfect gentleman, but I want to make sure he's not getting the wrong idea.

"Nick, ummm..I just…uh…"

Nick, as if reading my mind, placed a comforting kiss on the top of my head.

"Don't worry, Sar, I'm just here to help."

I smiled slightly, feeling a little better, but still nervous. I decided to lie on my left side facing the back of the couch, so I wouldn't have to look into his eyes, and he couldn't see mine. I want some dignity and self-preservation when this is all over with. Not that Nick would ever purposely make me feel uncomfortable, but I do.

Strangely, I felt my heart rate skyrocket as I found a comfortable position on the couch. Suddenly, I realized that he would have to see my underwear in order to fully remove and recover the bandage. Dammit! I should have worn some more exciting panties, rather than the pale yellow Victoria's Secret pair I remember I have on.

I told Nick where to find the new dressings and the medical tape, and he quickly retrieved them as I tried to control my breathing. Was I excited? I

couldn't be. No, I must be mortified. But what better person to change your bandages than Nick? He has proven himself to be so caring and gentle, and I'm not blind. He looks an awful lot like that hottie, George Eads.

Nick returned and knelt down next to the couch, as he put the bandages on the floor next to him. He let out one of those strangely sexy breaths, clearing his throat a little as he did so.

"Okay, you ready? I promise I'll be as gentle as possible." Nick reassured me, leaning over me so he could see my face. I just nodded, wanting this over with as soon as possible. My skin tingled a little as he moved my old, cozy t-shirt up a little, until the hem settled just above my belly button. I took a deep breath in, waiting for I don't know what. Him to let out a disgusted groan? I don't know…to say something.

His hands spent the next few moments gently moving his fingers over parts of the bandage, feeling where it lay and determining how to get it off without hurting me. His thumb brushed at my back a little, where the top corner was. I realized that I had forgotten to breathe for about twenty seconds, and hoped that Nick didn't notice.

"Ouch, Sara. That clown really did get you good, didn't he?" He tried to lighten the mood.

"Yeah." Was all I could think to say at that moment, and I inwardly cursed myself for not sounding more intelligent.

"Kay." He breathed in. "Sar, I'm gonna have to push your shorts down a little, okay? But remember, I won't look at anything on purpose. I'm just helping, right?" He reminded me. I just nodded again and stared at a spot on the back of the couch. He was being so gentle and caring, but I still felt uneasy. Not in several years had anyone touched me so intimately, and it wasn't even that intimate. I felt sad that I had forgotten what it was like to have another person's hands on my body.

Nick carefully hooked his thumb in the waistband of my pajama shorts, a sensible purple striped pair. He pulled them down only as far as he had to, like he promised, and I felt the air hit my skin. His delicate fingers traced the bottom edge and worked their way under the medical tape.

"Alright, I'm gonna try to take this off as gently as I can. You can punch me afterwards if it hurts too much."

I managed a giggle and then closed my eyes in preparation of the pain that would most likely follow. Nick pulled the tape off quickly and non-torturously. I was surprised that it didn't really hurt that much. Him and his talented hands. My breath hitched as he let one of his hands sit right on my hip as he reached down on the floor for something.

"That is an ugly cut, Sar. No wonder you don't want to look at it." Nick commented as I heard him open a pack of wet wipes. "But looks like the doctor did a really good job stitching it up. You'll be fine."

I felt his fingers squeeze my hip gently. I know he meant it to be a comforting gesture, but my felt like it had been set on fire, the energy his body gave to me. How come no one could ever touch me like that? And Nick wasn't even my boyfriend; he wasn't even dating me, and he could get away with squeezing my hip. Granted, he was performing medical aid, but it felt damn good.

"I'm just gonna clean some of that tape residue off a little." Nick told me. I felt the cool wipe on my skin seconds later, as he carefully dabbed the area clean. His hand traveled up my side, and to the front edge of my abdomen, down to my hip and below my panty line, and then back up the top of my back. I let out an involuntary whimper, and hope he didn't hear me.

"You still doing okay? You're being quiet." He asked softly. Nick was always frowned upon for getting too personal with victims, but right now I could see how any victim would want Nick at their crime scene. He was so tender, and gentle. Not just the way he was touching me, but how he was explaining everything he was doing in such a soothing voice.

"I'm fine." I managed. Moments later, a towel dabbed the area dry.

Like a wounded dog or something, I just couldn't resist the temptation of reaching over and running a finger over some of the edges of my wound. It didn't hurt anymore to touch it on the outside. Still a little tender, but nothing I couldn't handle. My finger followed the wound down to where it stopped on my hip, just barely creeping on to my bottom. My pajama bottoms had since crept up a little bit, and covered the edge of my ugly scar. Nick surprised me when his hand covered mine, and gently squeezed.

"Don't worry, Sar, it will heal. And it won't look as bad as you think." He told me in a soothing tone, trying to get a look at my face. Then, he picked up my hand and gently kissed the palm, setting it back on the couch. His hand went back to my hip and he again hooked his thumb under my panties and pj shorts. "I'm gonna need to push these down a little farther to put the bandage on decent enough, okay? But don't worry, I've seen plenty of butts, so yours won't faze me." He joked a little. Somehow, I sensed that he was slightly uneasy about this too. He didn't want to cross any lines with me, especially since I was wounded and not feeling up to par.

"It's okay." I whispered. Strange that I didn't want this to happen at all a few minutes before, but now it was strangely exciting, and dare I say, erotic. Nick was going to look at my tush! Well, part of it anyway.

Nick's hand tentatively tugged at my bottoms, exposing more and more of my skin. Again, I felt the air kiss my skin, further convincing me that this was in fact real, and it felt strangely right. Even though he was helping me bandage myself, I still wouldn't allow just anyone to do this, and I think he knows that too.

His hand left me as he found the cloth gauze-like bandage that would soon cover my skin. He gently set it into place, making sure it covered all of the wound. Carefully, he cut a piece of the medical tape and applied it to where it sat on my hip. His fingers worked skillfully, applying the tape all around the cloth, until I was all taped up. He traced the edges again a little, inspecting his work. After a few seconds, he decided it was good to go.

"Alright. All done." He announced, as his hand found my drawers again and gently tugged them up where they had been before. He patted my clothed hip and looked down at my face again. I finally turned my head to look at him for the first time since he'd started, and I actually felt comfortable. This man had seen my butt now, and I didn't feel weird. He kissed my cheek, and lingered a little longer than he had at the door. I smiled at him and turned to lay on my back.

"Thank you." I told him truthfully. It felt good to have a fresh bandage on, and knew it was best to keep my wound clean.

"And remember, I can help you out again if you need me to." Nick told me, hovering over my face. I self-consciously tugged my shirt down, not having any more excuses to expose any flesh to him, but strangely I didn't mind. In fact, I think I may have enjoyed that. And…he offered to do it again.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." I admitted, smiling. His hand gently stroked my hair as he gazed down at me.

"Well, now it would make my day even more if you took your medication and laid down for a nap." He raised his eyebrows at me, preparing for a rebuttal, gazing at me knowingly. Nick didn't think he'd be lucky enough three times in one day.

I sighed theatrically and slowly sat up. Nick's hands were out, ready to help me if needed, but knew I didn't like to be thought of as broken or weak. He respected me, and sometimes I didn't feel that from the other people I work with.

I traipsed tiredly into my kitchen and got two glasses from the cupboard. My medication was sitting right there on the counter, so Nick picked it up and started reading it.

"Take two pills three times a day." Nick read, then looked at me suspiciously. "It's still full, Sar."

"I told you I haven't taken any since the hospital."

Nick cleared his throat in disappointment again, and opened the child-proof cap, spilling two pills into his hand. He placed them on the counter, as if ordering me to take them, and screwed the cap back on. I had since filled both cups with ice water, and handed a glass to him. I took a big swig and then set my glass down again, looking at the counter – anywhere but at him.

He paused in his drinking and looked at the pills. Then, he walked over to me, putting his hand at the small of my back, and kissed my head tenderly.

"Sweetheart, I know the pills make you feel funny. I was on the same meds after that stalker incident. And, believe me, the pain doesn't get any easier. It's better if you just take the medication now before it gets worse."

"I'm not myself on those pills." I spilled out.

"I know they make you feel weird, but it'll only be for a week. Then you can be good old spunky, mouthy, determined, wonderful Sara again." He rattled off. Nick brushed the small of my back with his fingers in comfort, trying to push me along and convince me. "Come on. Take those pills, and I'll put you to bed."

"What am I, eight?" I asked him.

"Of course not, but you need to have a good rest, and you can't do that if you're in pain."

"I…"

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep. How's that sound?" Nick gently stroked me hair, and his gaze was again making me melt. How could he be so incredibly sweet, and me not notice until now? How could I resist doing anything but exactly what he tells me?

"Okay." I finally gave in. I popped the two pills into my mouth, and drank the rest of my water, placing it in the sink when I was done. Nick did the same, and then gently turned me to my bedroom.

"Way to go, Sar." He congratulated me, somehow not sounding corny. "Bed."

Nick walked ahead of me into my bedroom, which I had thankfully kept somewhat neat. It hurt too much to make my bed, so it was a little messy, but he didn't seem to care. Nick pulled the covers back and waited for me to get in, and then tucked me under, placing a sweet kiss on my forehead. Then, he walked around to the other side and settled himself above the covers.

We were both facing each other on our sides, my left hand tucked under my pillow, and my right resting on the mattress. Nick stroked some fallen hair behind my ear and then kind of bopped my nose with his finger, causing me to smile. His hand covered mine, and I felt so safe and loved in that moment.

"You just go to sleep, sweetheart."

I closed my eyes, and that was the last thing I heard before slipping into the best, most recuperative sleep I had experienced in a long time. Sleeping right next to Nick Stokes.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for the great feedback, and sounds like you want me to continue. Again, I hope Sara doesn't sound too wimpish, but remember, she's been through a lot and…she's Sara! I always picture her as outwardly confident, but inwardly scared and awkward, and hope I portray that half decently. : ) Please let me know what you think in a review, and enjoy!

I'd dreamed about it before, strangely, and it had finally happened. I woke up after my nap, staring over at the form of Nick Stokes on the normally empty side of my bed. It seemed so right, to have that void filled with the man that had shown such care for me. Not only earlier today, but ever since I've known him. Never before had someone made me feel so comfortable with my own body, and I had a huge gash down my side. The way he cared for me was…comforting, uplifting, and other adjectives I can't think of right now. It was exactly what I needed, and perfect.

I stared at his face, wondering what he was dreaming about. What would a caring, loving, hot, CSI cowboy dream about? The cases he was working? Home in Texas? His past girlfriends? The future? Me? My heart dropped as I realized that Nick Stokes would never want to spend the rest of his life with me. Why would he? Everywhere we go, gorgeous women talk him up, and he flirts back shamelessly. He has his pick of anyone, practically. How could he ever be interested in me? I felt overwhelming sadness as I realized nothing could ever happen. He was just being nice. That's just how he is. As natural as blood running through his veins, he helps people without question. I mean, that's why we're in this job, isn't it? To help people and their families on the worst day of their lives. I closed my eyes, wondering how I could be so stupid. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to go back to sleep. Nick was exhausted.

Moments later, I felt tender fingertips on my face. My eyes started open, probably a reflex of my job. You never know, I've realized, with a job like this. When I looked, though, I found the caring, but sleepy face of Nick. My breath must have woken him up. Or maybe it was my subconscious wishing that he would wake up and touch me. Touch me like he did earlier, and in so many other ways. I smiled as he looked at each other a little groggily.

"Hey." He whispered.

"Hey."

It felt so right as the backs of his fingers stroked my cheek before they traveled to my hair, stroking it gently. It was such an intimate gesture, and again, my heart ached that it had been so long since I had felt this type of touch. It wasn't sexual, which I thought would've been what I wanted. His tenderness was what I craved.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby."

His hand landed on my shoulder and he rubbed it supportively as he let out a little laugh.

"I'm glad to hear it. I thought that medication would help."

Nick bopped my nose with his finger like he had done earlier. I could never tire of that.

"Now are you going to listen to me in the future when it comes to your medical care?" He asked hopefully. His hand returned to the mattress, and I felt a sense of loss, but the warmth and weight of his body was still next to me, so it was okay.

"And why should I listen to you?" I teased him, taking a chance, and putting my hand on his bicep. I was still under the covers, and he was still above them, dressed in his work clothes. Nick didn't even flinch. Women had probably done that to him hundreds of times. He probably didn't even notice.

"You had a good nap, didn't you? You wouldn't have if you had been in pain."

"True." I nodded knowingly. "I may listen to your advice in the future. Maybe."

Nick cleared his throat and shook his head a little, knowing that was the closest thing to a promise I was going to give him. He knows I don't like to be handled. I didn't think I liked to be handled, but if that's what he was doing this morning, it felt good.

"Fair enough." Nick looked behind my head at the alarm clock. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. We'd slept for about four hours. I knew he exhausted himself at work, the way he works so hard. Since I'm on 'vacation', my body clock is really off, but his is still on CSI nightshift time. He needs to get more sleep before shift, and I'll feel bad if he doesn't get it. "You hungry? We can order something in."

"Not really. I could really just do with a shower."

"How's your appetite been?" He questioned me, and there was no denying concern in his voice. I know I'm pretty thin anyway, and he thinks I need to eat every chance I get.

I chuckled before I answered.

"What appetite?" I barely ate a thing these days because it just made me nauseous.

"You need to eat, Sar. It's not healthy."

There my emotions go again. Okay, I don't like to be told what to do, as many I work with have realized. I feel like they're judging me. I know Nick would never do that, but I still don't like it.

"You're welcome to help yourself to whatever's in my kitchen, but I just don't feel like eating at all."

I threw my covers off and walked over to the bathroom before his voice stopped me. He knows I don't like being told what to do.

"Sara." I stopped and turned to see him getting off my bed. What a great sight. "You know I'm just looking out for you right?"

I readjusted my stance as he walked over to me, but gave me my space.

"You know that going days without food isn't good for you. I'm just trying to get you healed again."

"I feel nauseous every time I try to eat something." I spilled.

"Well, what have you been trying to eat?"

I shrugged. Truthfully, the mere sight of food made me nauseous, so I hadn't even attempted anything. Nick looked away for a minute and tightened his jaw, understanding why I wasn't answering him.

"Alright, Sar. You take your shower, and I'll make some soup. How does that sound?"

"Fine." I quickly turned, still not happy with the way things were going, and he caught my wrist and pulled me back.

"Sar, what's with the attitude?" He raised his eyebrows, taking my hands in his. I guess Nick isn't used to his help being turned down. Well, I don't just want his help. As I realized when I woke up just now, Nick is just a helpful guy. He helps anyone who needs it. This means nothing to him, and everything to me, and that's just not good for me. If someone is going to touch me like he did when he changed my bandage, I should mean something special to that person. I'm just another victim to him, and that's not good enough for me. I've been hurt too many times.

"I told you, I don't like the way the meds make me feel." I averted the real issue. I'm not about to confess that I want him with me here, maybe even forever. Sara Sidle doesn't just spill her guts to anyone, especially someone who goes through women as fast as he does a bag of potato chips.

"Well, they're gonna make you better eventually. And I'm here too, remember?" He said seriously. His hand stroked my arm, and again, I longed that he would stay with me. I looked down at his hand, and I wondered if he realized how vulnerable and lonely I feel. Does he feel sorry for me, or does he really care for me?

"Nick, you don't have to stay here. I can take care of myself." I tested him, and I dared to look into those handsome, sparkly eyes of his. They told me how harebrained it was for me to think I was inconveniencing him. I felt my whole body light on fire when he kissed my forehead.

"I just want to make sure you are. I know you like to be strong, Sar, but it's okay to ask for help." His thumbs stroked the back of my hands. "You go take your shower, and I'll fix you something. Do you need help taking off your bandage?"

He was being so sweet, and further convincing me that I wasn't just some victim he would do this for anyway. Nick had never kissed a victim's forehead. That would be totally inappropriate. So, did he not think of me as a victim? Confusing thoughts clouded my head as I felt his hands turn me towards the bathroom.

"No. Just putting it on, really."

"Okay. Just call when you're ready, and I'll help you."

Nick followed me into the bathroom and turned the shower on for me, testing the temperature to make sure it was just right. When he deemed it perfect, he turned back to me, my arms crossed possessively across my chest. He kissed my cheek and then proceeded out the bathroom.

These days, I avoided looking at myself in the mirror, because I thought I looked hideous. It didn't look like me. I didn't like seeing myself so broken and far from my normal self. I changed right by the shower, not able to avoid the look of my now very pale skin tone. As I carefully removed my bandage, wincing a little at the pain I managed to cause, I took in the sight of the angry, red, stitched-up gash. It was disgusting, but Nick didn't seem to care. He pampered and tended to me, no matter how gross it was.

I stepped into the shower and let the water run over my body. My body ached from the tiredness of it all; the sleepless nights, and the pain. That pain that won't go away, even with the painkillers Nick made me take. My shaking hand reaching out, I turned the temperature up as hot as I could take it, and let it pound down on my body.

I guess I'd been in there for a long time when Nick started knocking on the door. I'd been in there so long that the water was getting cold. When he started calling my name gently at first, and then worriedly, as he pounded on the door, I started crying. I was so confused. The pain I was feeling both emotionally and physically had become unbearable, and the man that had managed to spare me a little pain, I knew I couldn't have. He probably thinks I'm a freak by now.

"Sara, let me in! Please." He begged me. Nick repeated something like this several times before I finally reached out and turned off the icy water. I pulled down my towel from the rack and managed to pull it around my body before Nick finally burst in. The look on his face terrified me – it looked like he'd just lost someone he cared deeply about. Tears were still fresh on my face; the water from the shower couldn't hide it.

"Sara!" He whispered, his voice a mix of relief, anger, and fear. Nick grabbed my shoulders and sat me on the toilet seat, and ran a hand over my cheek. I'm sure my face was icy to the touch, as I was now shivering from the cold that had just enveloped me. My skin was a blushed red from being exposed to hot, and then cold water within a matter of only a few minutes. Nick kneeled down and tightened the towel around me, rubbing my arms to warm me up.

"Sara, why'd you do that?" He whispered, with emotion in his voice. I'd scared him. But strangely, I didn't feel guilty. I felt like I was crying out for help, and then pushing him away, and then crying out again. And he kept coming back to me. He came back. I sniffled some more, and I tried to concentrate on his hands. One cupped my neck, while the other was now rubbing my toweled back quickly, trying to get me warmed up again.

"Sar, your pulse is racing." He told me, evidence to me that I'd really lost it now. What the hell was I doing to myself? I just looked at him like a lost puppy, just praying that he would know what to do, because I didn't. "Let's get you changed and warmed up, okay?"

I gripped my towel tightly as he stood me up and led me into the bedroom, never letting go of my other hand.

"Where are your sweats?" He asked me, eyeing my cabinets.

"Bottom drawer." I didn't even recognize my own voice. It was wavering, and weak, and was the epitome of everything I try not to be. But it was okay showing this side to Nick somehow. I knew he could help me, and now I knew he wouldn't leave.

Like he'd lived here for some time, Nick went straight to my bureau drawers. I was slightly mortified when he fished around in my underwear drawer for an acceptable pair, knowing he was seeing all my intimate items. He didn't comment, just pulled out a sensible pair of pink briefs and a comfy t-shirt from the next drawer down. Nick deposited them unceremoniously on my bed, as I tried to read his expression. He didn't look pissed, like I thought maybe he could be. He looked concerned, and no-nonsense, and protective.

"Are you okay to change?" He tested my emotional and physical temperament. I nodded meekly, finding a spot on the floor. Nick put his hands on his hips, as if not sure whether to believe me or not, and I don't blame him. "I'll wait right outside the door." He told me, glancing at me for a few moments, before exiting. The door was left open, and when I looked, I could see his shadow pacing outside the room. I really did scare him. Was there something really wrong with me?

Carefully, I toweled my body dry, taking extra care next to my wound. I ran the warm towel over my hair a few times, getting most of the cold moisture out. I winced a little as I leaned down to pull my underwear on.

"You okay?" His voice came from outside turning his head towards my door. Instinctively, I pulled the towel back up to my chest.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tender."

Within about a minute, I'd managed to painfully slip on my track pants and an old white t-shirt. Tentatively, I emerged from my bedroom after sweeping my hair up into a messy ponytail. I most definitely was not going to mess with drying and styling my hair today. Nick took my crouched form in as I passed him, and he placed his hand at the small of my back as we walked to the kitchen.

The soup he had prepared was still sitting on the stove, simmering on low, abandoned temporarily. He stirred it a little, and then wordlessly retrieved two bowls from my cabinets. I didn't say anything, not knowing where to start, and not wanting to explain. It was too complicated, and I didn't even know what I was thinking. As we ate, I gently blew and sipped at my soup, as Nick shoveled it down, seemingly worried.

"Sar, how long has it been like this?" He finally asked.

"Huh?" I stopped, nervous at what he was implying. He did think I was a freak.

"How long have you been upset like this? And dealing with it on your own?" He seemed upset, and I couldn't tell yet if he was just upset for me, or with me.

"A..a while." I admitted, stirring my soup aimlessly. He would probably think I was pitiful with the way I lived my life. Things had taken a turn for the worse since the stabbing, but I don't know how many times I've cried myself to sleep at night alone, wondering if anyone would ever wake up next to me for more than just a month at a time. That seemed to be how long my relationships with men were destined to end.

"How long?" He asked again.

"It's gotten worse lately." I admitted, waiting for him to tell me how pitiful I was. That's what my father used to do when he was upset or worried about me.

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked gently, fear still overwhelming his eyes.

"Nick, I"

"Promise me, Sara. That if you ever feel that overwhelmed again that you will come to me." His hands were cupped together, his elbows resting on the table, gesturing like he didn't know what else to do. "Getting help is not shameful. I ask for help all the time. You can't do it alone all the time. Don't you see that?"

I didn't know what to say to that. Yeah, I knew I should get help, but that didn't mean asking was easy. Growing up, I'd learned that you don't ask for help when it might make you or your family look bad. Dad had abused mom and his children for years, but she never asked for help. It was worse for her to let people know she was supposedly weak and unable to protect herself and her children, rather than going to someone for help. My mother was an important person in our community, and she didn't want that image tarnished. But it was tarnished forever when she killed my father. I was still that little girl, stuck with my mother's bad advice in my head. People asked for help all the time, but I just couldn't.

Nick's hand reached out and took mine. I stared down at our joined fingers, wondering just how long he would try to help me before he gave up.

"Promise me, Sara." He whispered, looking into my eyes, but I didn't dare look back. When I didn't say anything, he squeezed my hand a little. "It's okay, Sara. I'm here, and I'm not leaving. Please say I promise."

It took everything in me to say it. I scrounged around for every little piece of dignity I had left in that frail, hurt body of mine and mustered up the answer he seemed to long for.

"I promise." My voice croaked.

"Good." Since we were both pretty much done, and I'd actually managed to keep the food down, Nick stood up and helped me to my feet, bringing me into a warm embrace. His muscular form felt warm on my skin, and his steady, sure breathing offered me a temporary solace. He took in a deep, strengthening breath as he pulled away and took my head in his hands. He looked into my lost eyes for a few moments, and this time I couldn't look away. His gaze was strong and something I couldn't deny. He cared deeply about me for some reason, it seemed. But was it deep enough for me to let him in?

Nick kissed me several times on my crown, and my hands settled on his forearms as he continued to cradle my head.

"Let's get you bandaged up again and back to bed." He suggested, taking hold of my hand and leading me to my bedroom, not waiting for an answer or acknowledgment from me.

"What about you?"

"I'm fine. I'm just worried about you."

I let his words sink in as he hastily made the bed, flattening the bedspread.

"Lie down." He told me, and then went to my bathroom to retrieve the needed objects. The way my bedroom was set up in relation to the door, I needed to lie down on my left side facing the door. I didn't care enough to move to the other side of the bed, so I wouldn't have the luxury of avoiding his eyes this time. Settling on my stomach, I waited for him to return.

Nick knelt down next to my bed, arranging the objects he would need. This time, he'd brought hydrogen peroxide to clean it with, which I'd managed to avoid last time. I buried my face in my arms, knowing from experience that that stuff burns like hell.

Apparently, we'd moved to a new level, which I realized when he pushed my shirt up with no warning. He was probably frustrated with me.

"Did you wash it in the shower?" He questioned me.

"Not really." It still hurt too much to run soap over it, like the doctor told me to try after a few days. Mostly, I was supposed to be treating it with the hydrogen peroxide, but I didn't have the heart to do that to myself. But Nick does.

He dabbed a cotton ball with the devil liquid and eyed the wound carefully before stealing a glance at my face. I'd since turned my face and sat up on my elbows in anticipation of the pain.

"Niiiick." I whined like a little kid.

He gave me an amused look, the first one in several hours.

"You're as bad as my nieces." He retorted, smiling at me. I actually allowed myself a small grin also. His hands gently led me to lay on my side facing him. "You ready?" The cotton ball was poised near my gash. I nodded and closed my eyes tight.

The pain was like a thousand little needles pricking me all over again. I took in a sharp breath every time he dabbed my skin. But strangely, the pain I felt then, like the searing and then icy pain from the shower earlier, reminded me that I could still feel, and that I was still alive.

He still warned me about taking my pants down, thankfully, though I could see him too. His fingers carefully tugged them down a couple of inches again, and he dabbed the remainder of my wound. Moments later, I shivered as he blew gently over the treated area, drying the liquid for me, his hands holding my body in place, as if I would run away.

"You need to take more medication before you go back to sleep." He told me, seemingly as an order, not a suggestion. I didn't answer as he placed the gauze over my side once more, once again enjoying the feeling of his warm fingers on my tired body. They were like little mini shock devices, the way his energy transferred from his talented fingers to my skin. How could I tell him that his touch alone made me feel so much better? Did he enjoy it too, or was he just doing his friendly duties?

This time, I got a view of his face as he worked. He was in deep concentration, carefully and gently fitting the gauze to just the right position. His right thumb grazed my belly as he coaxed it into place. He seemed to think nothing of it, but again, my heart fluttered, wishing he could touch me like that again. I wondered what he thought of the rest of my body. My stomach had a tiny bulge to it, and my skin wasn't as perfect as I'd like it.

As he finished with the tape, he inspected his handiwork once again, tracing his large, but delicate fingers over my bandaged area. This time, he seemed in no rush to cover me back up. He couldn't possibly enjoy looking at me. At my less-than-perfect abs, my geeky looking belly button, and an enticing amount of my hip.

His hand possessively seemed to cup my hip, and he looked into my eyes, checking for any sign of sanity.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." His thumb stroked a bare piece of my hip, a part that wasn't covered by medical tape or gauze. He kissed my cheek as he slowly pulled my underwear and track pants back up, and then gently lead my hips to lay flat on the bed.

He came to sit on the edge now, and his hand went to my still uncovered side. I am very surprised that I'm actually capable of having a coherent thought when his thumb rubs at my belly.

"Good. I'm gonna try to catch a few more winks of sleep before shift. Do you mind if I steal your couch?"

"Nick, you can go home."

"Not a chance. I want to stay here with you."

He _wants_ to stay here with me? Is that what I heard? I smile up at him tiredly. After gazing at me for a few moments, and me not arguing, he stood up and pulled my shirt back down, kissing me again on the forehead. That man has the power to make anyone feel like a million bucks.

He came back into my room a minute later with another glass of water and two more pills. Nick turns to leave the room, since I am now snuggled under my covers, but I stop him.

"Nick." He turns around, and his face is so inviting and patient. "Will you sleep in here again?"

"Sweetheart, you need to get some rest, and I snore sometimes."

Was that a 'I really don't want to sleep in here with you' excuse, or a 'I'd like to, but I'm just testing you' excuse? I decided to call him in it.

"I slept better with you here." I admitted, and that took a lot for me; to admit that I needed someone else; that I, Sara Sidle, needed companionship.

A contented grin spread over his face and he took a few steps towards me.

"If it makes you feel better, than I'll do whatever you ask."

Those words rang in my ears like the Liberty Bell. Did he mean that? Because if he did, I would have a few requests I would need to take care of. But no, that would be inappropriate. He's trying to make me feel better, not feed my desires. I'd have to feel out the situation a little more before even thinking about making those kind of requests. For now, I was so contented as Nick lay down next to me and joined me in a peaceful, rejuvenating, perfect slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey y'all! Happy belated Canada Day and Independence Day to those who celebrate. I'm so happy that you are enjoying this fic so much; I'm really enjoying writing it! I'll be going to England next Wednesday for 2.5 weeks, so I'll be trying to update a lot of my stories between now and then, b/c my grandmother has no working shower, let alone a computer. : ( Please enjoy this chap, and don't forget to review (they fill me with glee!).

I suppose it would have thought to have been sweet, if we'd been dating for a while. I woke up to a note on the side of the bed where Nick had been. He'd left to go back to work, and didn't want to wake me. It's better than most other guys I've been attracted to – they would just leave and not say anything or leave a note. So why do I feel so lonely here with a note in lieu of Nick?

I woke up several times that night (well, day to everyone else) because the man's face wouldn't leave my dreams. I kept seeing his angry, hateful face like I had when I turned around at the crime scene after a searing pain had split through my side. After starting awake, I would look next to me into the sleeping, but still comforting face of my coworker and friend. Concentrating on the familiarity and safety of his tanned, gentle face, I would soon drift back into a peaceful sleep, at least for a while.

As I turn my body away from the empty void in my bed, I can't help but wish for Nick. I wish he were here to stroke my face like he had earlier when I awoke from my nap. I wish he were here to not take any of my pitiful crap, because lord knew I was going to try it again once he was gone. He couldn't make me take my pain medication, or get out of the shower, or even get out of bed. Earlier, he'd protected me from myself, and I'd felt the safest I had in a long time. I'm scared right now – not of being attacked again – but afraid of what I might do. I know he has to work, but why'd he have to leave me?

I could call him at work, and let the deep, soothing sound of his voice lull me back into sanity. But, no. Then he would know how weak I am. I'd lose all his respect both personally and professionally. I couldn't let that happen. Nick had already seen me break down in the shower; I couldn't let him know this was a regularity. He didn't need that extra stress of whiny little me calling to be cheered up. What am I, twelve?

I decide not to pry myself out of bed just yet. This little cocoon of self-pity will suit me just fine for now. I think about how lonely I am again; not just now, but always, and quietly begin to sob. Slowly, I let the tears rack my body – it feels horrible at first, but then I feel myself slip into that familiar solace. I let the emotional pain leave me, and I begin to feel empty inside. Empty is familiar to me.

Suddenly, I hear my front door open, and I snap my head up. I knew I locked the door yesterday when Nick came over. Was it the suspect coming back to finish the job? It couldn't be; it's too calm.

The heavy footsteps sound over the creaky hardwood floors of the living room, and I hear some keys scurry across the countertop. I don't want to say anything, still fearful that I won't like who answers, so I just wait, leaning my ear in the direction of the kitchen.

Moments later, the footsteps sound down the hallway and they're nearing my door. My breathing stops as the door begins to open ever so slowly. Finally, peeking around the door, I see my personal savior, Nick. I let my breath out in relief as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. He looked at me to check if I was awake, and I smiled up at him in relief and comfort. Now I wasn't so scared any more because I knew he was here to stop me from whatever might surface in that crazy mind of mine.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." He coos at me as he sits on the edge of my bed. The touch I've been missing is instantly and insatiably granted when he strokes my forehead with his fingers, and then tucks some tear-stained hair behind my ear. I feel my entire body relax, all my muscles taking a breather from the anxiety I'd managed to induce on myself. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

I'm sure he knows I haven't been sleeping, since my face is still a little wet from the sobbing that had only ceased moments ago, but that's how he is. Just feeling out my mood, letting me tell him what's going through my mind.

"No." I wiped at my face, and let my upper body drop back onto the mattress. Then I remember – shouldn't he be at work? "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at the lab?"

Nick smiled and studied me thoroughly. His gaze is so strong, yet so comforting to me. Does he know what he does with those eyes?

"I was worried about you. I went in and talked to Grissom, and he's letting me take a few days off to pamper you."

"Pamper me?" I smiled a little. I can't imagine Grissom using that word.

"Yes. And that's what I intend to do." He declared, placing a strong hand on my left arm. His thumb is stroking back and forth as he continues to talk, and I'm lucky I'm actually able to catch what he's saying. "Whether that's sitting around, watching girly movies, or cooking for you, or just letting you sleep. I'm here for you."

The last sentence comes out as a whisper, and I know he means every word he says. I can't believe that after how stand-offish and self-absorbed I've been over the years, that he still cares so much about me enough to use his own vacation days to take care of weepy, depressed me. How is this man still single?

His offering makes me emotional somehow (not too farfetched, since I've been a melting pot of emotions the last few days), and I cover up my eyes as I feel the wrenching tears threaten my body. Nick lets out a sympathetic sound, and I feel his body move to lay down next to me. I wonder if Nick would be getting this close and personal with me if I wasn't having a lot of personal problems right now. Is he just doing it out of pity, or does he really want to lay in bed next to me and hold me?

His strong arms tug me close to him, as he scoots in right next to me, and leads me to lay on my side. He kisses my forehead and temples multiple times as he tries to calm me down, and his warm hand is stroking up and down my bare arm. I'm laying on my bandaged side at the moment, and though I definitely enjoy the sensation of Nick's hands and lips, I need to move. I let out an uncomfortable whimper and move to sit up, and he remembers my wound instantly.

"Lie down on your stomach, Sar." He instructs me, his voice low. I do as he said, putting my arms under my pillow and still keeping my head facing him. His head is perched in his left arm as he keeps a close eye on my face, his own undeniably laced with concern, not quite knowing how to help, but doing a kick-ass job, if I do say so myself. I'm still sniffling, because I can't help it, but Nick is being so patient. His hand, in a lulling-inducing movement, is rubbing insistently at my back over my t-shirt. He applies just the right amount of pressure, causing my tired muscles to relax and adhere to his wishes. His palm is working wonders on my lower back, and then it moves higher, stroking my tense shoulders.

"Ssssh…it's okay." He whispers to me. "Just let it out."

I feel a few more tears escape me, I think out of relief, that he apparently thinks it's okay for me to cry and let him see emotions no one has seen in years. Others have told me, 'Don't cry', in other situations when I get a little emotional, but not Nick. He seems to know that I like that empty feeling deep down that reveals itself after a good, long cry. Except, right now, I'm not feeling empty. I'm feeling a little relieved, strengthened…and full. Like he's filling that emptiness with something I have know for a long time – genuine comfort and love.

He continues to whisper comforting things to me as his hand keep working, bending down occasionally to plant a kiss to my head. My crying is subsiding, and now it is replaced by even, shallow breathing. His hand further comforts me when he decides to just use his fingertips. It's a new, incredible sensation, as his delicate fingertips trace unknown patterns around my back, further relaxing my back muscles, but doing all kinds of things to my stomach. After a minute of this, I let out an involuntary, satisfied whimper. He inhales sharply, and continues to work. Nick finally lays his head down on the pillow right next to mine. His proximity allows me to smell the sweet familiarity of his aftershave, his soap, and his unique scent. Never have I been allowed to smell him like this – only a whiff here and there, but now it is surrounding me, and it feels so good. He's here with me, while his hand does wonders on my back, and whispers sweet things to me. I realize I not only want this, but need it. Could I have this forever, if I asked? Could he be with me forever, and do this to me willingly, without it being initiated by my off-the-wall emotions? I need to test his feelings out.

"That feels so good." I finally whisper, looking at his handsome face. I notice that he's wearing a short-sleeved shirt now, and I can see the muscles in his forearm, and his bicep peeking out. He's so strong, but yet so delicate with me.

"Does it?" His voice is husky, and I hope he's enjoying this as much as I am. Well, I'm the one getting my back rubbed, but I hope he likes that I like it, is what I mean. I hope he sees that I really like this, and never want it to stop. I could live the rest of my life laying here, letting him do this to me. It would be nice if more things happened too, but this is nice!

After I said that, his hand started working a little harder, making large, deep, satisfying circles over my upper back, alternating from just fingers to his whole palm. I let out tiny sounds, trying to communicate with him how good this feels.

A tiny piece of my flesh is showing at my right lower back; I can feel it peeking out. The next thing I feel is two of his fingers tentatively rubbing the tiny area of exposed flesh. I close my eyes and let out a tiny, delicate moan at the amazing feeling that this simple touch brings. This seems to encourage his action, as he moves his fingers back and forth, first in the same spot, and then moving all the way over to my spine, and back to my side. His thumb nudges at the left side of my back, as he watches my face for reaction. Our eyes are locked, and we both know exactly what we're doing, so there's no denying it. For the first time I see that look in his eye – that he might really like me and care for me; not as someone nursing his patient back from sickness, but as someone he deeply cares for. And I think he IS enjoying this as much as I am.

Soon, his hand is snaking further up the back of my shirt, and our breathing is getting heavier, as we are both aware that this is becoming much more than just a friend looking after a friend. We are both surprised, I think, that the other is letting this go so far. Pleasantly surprised, I should say. He's touching me like no one has for such a long time, and I've forgotten how good it feels. I have that wonderful, aching feeling deep in my belly, telling me that this touch isn't just in comfort, it's in attraction. And I'm no longer crazy thinking that he does like me. And hopefully, he's thinking the same thing about me.

His hand keeps snaking up higher and higher, taking my shirt with it, as his hand keeps going back and forth, back and forth. He uses the backs of his fingers and his thumb right now, so tantalizing on my skin. This time, I hope he feels that my heart rate is rising.

"So good." I whisper to him again. Nick adjusts his position, using his left upper arm to prop him up, and he leans over and kisses my forehead and temples again, his other hand still working at my back. His breathing is uneven and ragged, as if trying to keep control of it. Am I doing that to him?

I wriggle my body a little bit, to get my shirt to come up a little higher, and I can feel the weight of my breasts now bare against the sheets beneath me. He swallows hard, and I see him glance down, the subtle swell of my breast visible, and he slowly hikes the back of my shirt up to match my move. His fingers almost tickle as they reach above my shoulder blades and the nape of my neck. He begins to make long, sure strokes all the way up and down my back, and I now feel totally relaxed, but my blood is pumping excitedly all over my body, but especially deep in my belly.

I turn my head away from him now and feel his hand leave my back momentarily to sweep the hair off my neck. That hand rests on the mattress on the opposite side of my body as he leans over me, placing a sweet kiss to the nape of my neck. I shudder and close me eyes, glad that I can't see his face right now, because that might send me over the edge. I whimper, and he continues to pepper kisses all over the back of my neck. His kisses are tentative at first, but then they become open-mouthed, and I feel his breath against my wet skin. His hand comes back to life, moving up and down my right side, mostly concentrating close to my hip, and brushing my abdomen.

His hand makes a few sure, firm circular strokes across the vast expanse of my naked back and his lips leave my body as he stares down at my skin. He places a single kiss in the middle of my back, and then pulls back, his fingers working again.

"Mmmmmm…" I let the sound leave my body, letting him know I enjoyed that. He leans up and kisses me below my ear and my neck again, while his hand returns to my side, stroking over and over again, so delicately, but it's like electricity.

He shifts again, so that now he's on his hands and knees. His hands go on either side of me, bracing himself on the mattress, and soon I feel his lips return to the skin on my back. He starts up above my shoulder blades, placing chaste, but sweet kisses all over, seconds apart. Again, his kisses become open-mouthed, and lustrous as he moves downwards. His tongue sneaks out, licking my skin barely before placing a steamy, firm kiss to the same spot.

"Nicky…" I encourage him along, amongst the occasional whimper or moan. It's amazing just what those lips, hands, and tongue can do to me. He finally reaches my lower back, and both his hands go to my hips. His right pointer fingers makes a trail up and down my side again, and then goes to the waistband of the short shorts I'd worn to bed. He tantalizingly runs a single finger underneath, stretching the elastic up just slightly, running it back and forth several times. Then, he lets it snap lightly back to my skin, his hand goes back to my side, and I feel his lips on my back once again. A few slow, soft kisses, and then he lays back on his side, propping his head up in his hand again.

My head turns to see a satisfied, longing but protective look taking over his handsome features. My eyes are questioning him. Did he now want this? Does he thinks it's a mistake? He looks sure of himself, and not ashamed of what he's just done.

"We need to stop, Sara." He whispers, stroking my hair. "You're not well."

I must look disappointed, because he smirks a little. Not a cocky smirk, but one that tells me that he wants to continue as much as I do, but it wouldn't be right under the current conditions.

"We need to wait until you're healed." His hand made one more firm stroke down and back up my spine, and then his fingers reached for my shirt, pulling it halfway down my back. I'm satisfied to feel his large hand poised at my lower back, still lightly stroking with his thumb.

"How's your cut?" He asks me, letting his thumb brush the medical tape.

"Okay. It's not really that tender anymore." I look at his eyes and they're already studying my injured area.

"Mind if I take a look?" His eyes meet mine again, and I smile as his hands help me turn over to lay on my back. "I'll take that as I no." He smiled a little, and those delectable smile lines appear on his face. His hands are gentle as he slowly pulls the tape away; far gentler than I treat myself. Somehow, he's never once hurt me while removing this annoying white tape. I manage to feel my skin burn every time I try to do it myself. Just those talented hands at work again.

He removes the gauze, which isn't soiled at all this time; evidence that my wound is really closing up and healing. I can't wait for the day I don't have to wear that huge piece of fabric on my side again. But then, I wouldn't have a valid excuse to allow Nick to touch me. Based on what just happened, however, I have a feeling that Nick will provide me with plenty of excuses.

His fingers gently trace my scar, and he even slips his finger under my panties until he finds the end. I giggle and he smiles down at me.

"Does that feel tender?" He asks me, still stroking the bottom of my closing gash.

"No, but it feels good." I say bravely, watching his face for reaction. He makes an "oh" sound, making a pleasantly surprised face.

"Does it really, Miss Sidle?" His hand comes to lay flat on my naked belly, and he leans up to kiss my forehead as I nod my head. I thought this may be the moment; the moment when his lips finally descend on mine, and I would see fireworks and everything, but he pulls back.

"Do you need to take a shower? I can whip something up if you promise not to stay in until the water gets cold this time." He smiled.

"Okay." I agree quietly, wishing he would just duck his head and kiss me senseless. But he doesn't; he's like steel – never one to take advantage of a woman in distress, no matter how bad I want him to. What if I were to confess to him? Tell him that I've had a crush on him for years, and that I think I may be falling in love with him; that his touch had driven me wild; like no other person has made me feel before. And he hadn't even kissed me yet! He never even touched me anywhere but my face, back, and a tiny bit on my hip, and he had me reeling. I could only imagine what I would feel when things got a lot more heated. Would I be able to breathe?

"Kay." He pulled my shirt all the way down, then sat up. His hands gripped my forearms as he pulled me up also. He threw my bandage away in the bathroom and then left to leave me to it. Today, I had no fear that I would repeat what I'd done the day before – for once, I just stripped off my clothes, paying no attention to my scar or my beyond pale skin, and just hopped in the shower. I had no thoughts of wanting to break down; of feeling sorry for myself; of wishing I had some companionship – because I'd finally gotten a promising taste of it. Somehow, I didn't fear that he was going to leave; that this would end as soon as I was better again. Nick Stokes had given me a taste of feeling better about myself again, and I wasn't going to let him slip through my fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I can't thank you guys enough for your support. I absolutely love your feedback – it's like opening a present every time! I hope I'm getting it right, and you don't get pissed with me. Please review – they almost make me as happy as I am when I'm dreaming of Nick…

Do you ever get that feeling in your body? When it hurts so bad just to think about someone, because you want them so much, but can't have them? The sight of that person sends your muscles into tension, makes your breath hitch, and makes your heart yearn. You can't think of what to say – you want to confess to that person that you're in love with them, but all you can muster up is something about a crime scene. That's how I feel around Nick Stokes.

But after yesterday, I think I may actually have a chance with him. I never thought I was his type, or that he was even my type. Sure I wanted him, but that doesn't mean I should have him. But his charismatic smile, his smell, the touch of those sexy hands, and…god…just the fact that he's Nick – it just sends me over the edge. I want to pounce on him every moment I'm with him, but like he said yesterday, it wasn't right. Apparently, I'm in a fragile state, and he would never take advantage of me like that. But, what if I'm always this fragile? Sure, things are magnified right now because of my ordeal, but I know myself better than anyone, and I know I am one weak person. I'm so unsure of myself, and it takes an opposite like Nick to balance myself out and make me feel sane. When I'm around him, I just feel so…complete; so whole; and like I'm my real self. And no one else has ever made me feel that way. Does he know what he's doing to me?

This is going to sound so ho-ish, but right now I'm lounging on my couch on my left side, wearing nothing but short shorts and a sports bra. I decided to try going without gauze for the first time, since my wound was healing nicely, but it was catching on my t-shirt. So, while Nick was out getting us breakfast to go and coffee, I slipped my shirt off and put on a black sports bra instead. Plus, it's hot anyway, so that's part of my excuse. I'm trying to excuse it away in my mind anyway, but most people don't wander around their own house dressed like this unless they live alone, or they know their housemates very well. Before he gets back, I'll casually throw a blanket over myself, but then eventually I'll have to move. I want him to touch me again, and I want him to see that I'm okay. I mean, what more motivation would any girl need – he said we needed to stop UNTIL I WAS BETTER! That's enough to drive me insane with desire.

I still wonder, though, if I seem pitiful to him. Sure, he's being really nice right now, but is it just out of guilt? When this is all over and I'm better, will he really still be in to me? That's what keeps me awake at night – the unknown.

And my scar – it's going to be so damn ugly. I can barely stand to look at it, so I've been keeping it covered with the blanket most of the time he's been away. It's still so red and inflamed, and the stitches are visible. Bugh! But Nick never comments on its hideousness. He just helps me change the bandage, and he even traces it with his fingers sometimes. When he touches me; that's when I really feel beautiful, and it's something that I crave. And I crave it even more now that I've had a taste of it.

I hear the door open and in walks Nick with a smile on his face, with a drink holder and a bag of steamy breakfast I can smell from across the room. I take a deep breath and sit up, letting the blanket pool around my waist. As Nick walks over, I see him do a bit of a double take, and I smile inwardly as I reach out to dig through the bag of food. God, I hope he thinks I'm sexy. I know I've appeared broken to him, but I honestly do feel almost as good as new when he's around me.

"This smells so good, Nick. Thank you." I comment as I set our various breakfast sandwiches out on the coffee table. The news is on low in the background. Nick hasn't said anything yet. I wonder what he's thinking. I think in my mind that he's wondering why I'm in just a sports bra, so I decide I need to explain myself.

"Sorry, I was hot." I tell him, taking a big bite of my breakfast sandwich. My appetite has come back full force now, and I'm amazed at just how much I've been eating. Nick is studying me as he chews on his own sandwich, and I suddenly feel like I'm under a microscope.

"Then why do you have a blanket?" He questions me.

I turn to look at him to my right and he raises his eyebrows, not in an authoritative way, just waiting for an answer. I sigh, knowing that my warped inner voice has made me look silly again.

"I don't like looking at my scar. And my t-shirt kept catching on it."

"Then why don't we bandage it up again?" He suggests, reaching out and touching my scar. The move takes me by surprise, but definitely a good surprise. He tests the tenderness that I feel, watching my face for reaction, and I'm just breathing unsteadily. He must know his touch sends shivers through every molecule of my body.

"It's probably not a good idea to have the stitches uncovered, Sar." He makes one last stroke down my side and then pulls his hand away, turning his attention back to his breakfast.

"I don't like how it feels." I explain. "I'd rather just lay here with it bare than have that bandage on any more."

"Did you take your pain meds before bed last night?" He'd slept over again, but slept above the covers again, and had been a perfect gentleman, no matter how much I wished for him to make a move. I went to the kitchen to get water, but didn't take the medication, because I hate how it makes me feel.

"No. Nick, I told you I don't like it."

Nick doesn't say anything and continues to munch on his breakfast. After a few minutes of silence between us, I start to wonder what he's thinking again. I know he's disappointed I didn't take my meds. Is he irritated with me? I can't stand silence between us, because I feel like he's second-guessing me.

"Nick, is something wrong?" I finally call him on it.

"Nah, just the fact that you refuse to take care of yourself." He makes a frustrated gesture before continuing, "I mean, there's no reason not to have your cut bandaged up, and there's no reason not to be taking your pain medication, Sar. You're being so stubborn, and I don't understand why."

I don't know what to say to that for a moment, so I open my mouth, and then close it again momentarily. Nick seems to know he's made a good point, and takes a victorious bite of his burger, waiting for my explanation. Yeah, I'm stubborn when it comes to this crap. I don't like how my body feels, and I hate being bandaged up. Is it so horrible of me to not want that?

"You don't know how it feels, Nick, to be attacked at a crime scene!" I tell him, genuinely irritated with his matter of fact attitude.

"I don't know how it feels, Sar?" He tosses his burger on the table so he can concentrate on me. "Do you not remember Nigel Crane? Because I do, Sara. I see his damn face at night sometimes, still. Do you know how traumatizing that was?"

"Nick, I didn't mean…"

"And I was on the same meds as you are, Sara, so I do know how it makes your body feel. And no, it ain't pleasant, but the pain is worse."

"To you, the pain is worse, but I can't take that feeling, Nick!" I'm starting to cry now, and I can see Nick's face visibly change. He hates to upset me, and I can tell he feels bad. "I don't want to feel numb all over! I can't do it, I can't! So how dare you accuse me of being stubborn!"

Nick studies me for a minute as I start to recompose myself. I can tell he's still upset from my accusations. It was stupid of me say he didn't understand, when he's been through much worse. But I'm not as strong as he is, and I think I'm making that very clear right now. Finally, he moves, but he's standing up.

"I think maybe I should leave for a while. Give you some space." He says softly, but not angrily.

"Nick…"

"Obviously, I'm making you do things that you don't want to do. I've been trying to help you, Sara, but it sounds like you don't need it anymore, so I'll just go back home."

He moves around the table and grabs his keys from the coffee table, a look of hurt and confusion on his face. He's still so adorable when he's upset, but I don't like that look so much on his face when I've caused it. I suddenly feel panicked, because I know that he's what's been keeping me sane these last few days. I can't lose the glue that's holding the broken pieces of what's left of me together. I suddenly jump off the couch, not caring about my lack of clothing, or my scar and come to stop in front of him.

"Nick, please! Don't leave!" I grab fistfuls of his shirt and look up at his face pleadingly. He probably thinks I've completely lost it, but he doesn't look at me like I'm crazy. That's what I love about him – he's so understanding and non-judgmental. He listens to me. And I need him to listen to me now more than any other time.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Nick, but I'm just so…confused right now. And I don't like how the medicine makes me feel, but I know I should take it, and…"

"Sara, stop." Nick tells me calmly, as I'm still falling to pieces in front of his very eyes. He puts a hand on my shoulder and then takes it back, as if he's afraid of my skin now. Afraid of what it may do to him. "You need to calm down."

"I can't, Nick. I need you here with me." I'm practically sobbing, and I clench his shirt tighter. His hands are at his sides, seemingly unaffected by my blubbering, begging form. I feel like he's about to leave me, so I panic again and decide to spill my guts to him right here, right now. All of them.

"Nick, when you look at me, and touch me, and kiss my skin, I feel…I feel like a normal person, and I can't tell you how long it's been since I felt that. You...I can't describe how much you mean…I need you here, Nick…I just want you to hold me so bad and tell me it's okay, and…"

I look up into his eyes for any hint of understanding. I'm not sure what I see. Honestly, I can't tell if he's disgusted and creeped out, or if he's actually understanding how much I need him. So, I dare – my hands go to his face, and I pull him down to mine, and press a hard, scorching kiss to his gorgeous lips. He doesn't pull away at first, as I move my lips against his, but he doesn't respond. After a few moments, his hands go to my shoulders and he nudges me back.

"Sar…you're not well, this isn't…this isn't right." Instead of pushing me away like I would think after being rejected, he rests his forehead against mine.

I collapse into his arms now and start crying. I feel slightly embarrassed that I just threw myself out there, and strangely a little relieved that he didn't allow that as our first kiss – I kissed him, but he didn't kiss me back (that doesn't really count). I'm a ball of emotions right now, and I don't know what to think. Did I just majorly freak him out? Did I just blow any chance I had with him? I have so much baggage, I'm practically an international traveler.

I'm relieved when I feel his arms go around me, and stroke my back slowly. He places a kiss to my head, and I know that he still cares about me. I'm still crying, so he leads me back over to the couch. He guides me to sit down on his lap, and I keep my face buried in his neck. I can't let his body leave me – it's what's keeping me together – and that touch, it can heal me, I know it. As I start to calm down, I become aware of where his hands are. His right is gently perched at the small of my back, close to the gash on my right side, but cautiously avoiding it. His left hand is on my right leg, holding me together, it seems.

"You think I'm a freak." I said coldly when I'd finally calmed down. I could feel him breathing, the rise and fall of his chest a comfort in itself. His smell surrounded me again, and I was so afraid that I could never hold him like this again when he eventually would have to let me go.

"Sara, of course I don't think you're a freak." He told me seriously, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. They were completely serious and unwavering. "I care so much about you, and it hurts me to see you so upset. And it hurts me that you're not helping yourself by taking the meds and keeping your bandage on. I know it doesn't feel right, but that's what you gotta do. Your pain will only stay longer if you don't take care of yourself now." He explained patiently to me.

Nick kisses my forehead and brushes the hair away from my face tenderly, taking in my expression. What he says makes perfect sense to me, and yet I still feel somewhat stubborn. How can he know me this well? How can he think he knows what's best for me?

"And when the time is right, if you still feel the same way about me…" He stops, both knowing what he means, when he tucks some hair behind my left ear and kisses the skin under it tenderly. I let out a tiny whimper, hoping to encourage him along, but he won't allow it. Not right now. Slowly, he shifts his body and uses his hands to stable me until my bottom touches the couch. He pulls on my legs a little to lay me flat as I prop up a pillow underneath my head, smiling weakly. He's sitting on the edge now, right next to my bottom, and his right hand goes down to my left side. Now that I've confessed to him how much his touch helps me, I hope he'll use that to his advantage…and my advantage.

I know he's not going to try anything too serious, so I try to enjoy the temporary sensation of his fingers brushing up and down my left side, caressing my skin lightly. I stroke the back of his left hand, sitting on the other side of me on the couch, and look into his eyes. I can't believe I've been missing this for so long, and he's been right under my nose for six years.

Finally, and maybe frustratingly, I reach up and pull his head down so it's resting in the crook of my neck. I can feel his hot breath on my skin, as his left arm moves to brace himself just next to my head.

"Sara, we can't do anything." He whispers into my skin.

"I know." I whisper back, almost tearfully. "Just hold me…and touch me. Please."

Kissing on the lips seems to be a sacred rite for both of us, but other places seem to be fair game for now. After my request, Nick seems more than content to hold me, and caress me, and kiss my skin sweetly. His mouth makes its debut at the crook of my neck where his head rests, peppering my collar bone with his soft lips. He moves to my neck, kissing up the right side, branding each inch of it with his mouth. Nick kisses my cheek and my ear a few times, our breathing getting heavier, and he props his head up in his left hand and lays on his side. He looks down at my bare stomach, and touches with his fingertips just above my belly button. I watch his hand work, entranced that someone actually wants to touch me this way. He traces around my belly button, and then back and forth across my abdomen. His strokes are firm and sure, and then light and ticklish, as he watches my face carefully. He kisses my jawline as I let out a few whimpers.

My hand finally comes to life, reaching across my body to rest on his right hip. I slowly work my fingertips under his black shirt, which shows off his muscles very well, if I do say so myself. He kisses my right temple as my hand gains more courage. A tiny moan escapes his throat as my hand sweeps across his abdominals, feeling the power of his muscles beneath my fingers. His breath catches as I trace patterns and he breathes into my hair, seemingly enjoying the sensations I'm creating. It's been so long since I've had this kind of an effect on a man, and it's strangely empowering. It's undeniable proof that he feels the same way I do – I know what kind of effect he has on me, and it's reassuring to know that my touch is doing things to him. I push his shirt up farther and bravely move to plant a kiss on his chest, right in the center. His hands move to cup my head as I kiss all over his chest, wherever he'll allow me. I kiss and taste his delicious flesh, lapping my tongue out to take it all in. I've never tasted anything so wonderful, and yet I know I can't have him all right now. He'd never allow me to do that.

His body shifts, and I realize he's guiding me to lay above him. I let him guide me into position, still kissing his neck and chest all the while, and his hands go to my hips, stroking up and down hungrily. The pressure he's applying sets fire to my skin, and he attacks my neck with his lips, nipping, licking and kissing. I soon become aware that his hands are going to cup my bottom, rubbing up and down. I sit up on all fours and our noses touch, breathing in each other

"God, Sara." He murmurs, our lips dangerously close to one another. I move my hips enticingly, and his fingers are working their way up under my shorts and panties, touching the bare skin beneath. I don't know how much longer I can control my breathing or my desire to plunge my tongue into his mouth. This feels like foreplay alright to me, but he's already made it quite clear that kissing on the lips is not okay yet, let alone taking the big plunge.

"Nick, do you want me?" I whisper seductively right into his ear, and reach back to squeeze his hand, encouraging his actions. Our faces nuzzle together a little and he whispers kisses onto my skin, as his hands keep working at my bottom, pushing farther and farther up.

"You have no idea." He tells me, our lips close again.

"Then why won't you kiss me?" I press said sign of affection to his forehead and his temple, and he moves to kiss my throat.

"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're not well."

"But I feel so much better around you…why don't you just…"

His hands stroke up and down my back firmly, and I arch my back downward, relishing in his caressing touch.

"I want to kiss you so bad, Nick." I practically whimper, my voice an unrecognizable husky tone. "Please, just let me…"

Our lips are centimeters apart, and our noses caress each other wantonly. I'm hovering over what I see as the grand prize, and suddenly I feel a light pressure on my neck, and he's bringing me down to finally meet my lips with his in our first, searing, delectable kiss.

A/N: Hope you don't hate me. I'm working hard to make this non-raunchy. Is this mix all right? Let me know!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Heyyyy…glad you don't think it's too raunchy. There won't be any pure smut in this story, I've decided, but a little playing is fair game. I haven't quite decided where I'm going with this, so this chapter is a little shorter, but I wanted to update. Let me know if you have ideas! I definitely know they're not meeting his parents or anything, or getting married in a hurry. So, I hope you'll send ideas my way! shameless self-promotion ahead I've been coauthoring a story with LadyBug07, an awesome writer, so I hope you'll check it out. It's called "Bubbles and Butterflies", and you'll find out the significance of the title later. Thanks, as always, for your support.

After I get over the initial tingling shock that Nick Stokes is actually kissing me, I eagerly return it with full force. We've been dancing around this kiss for days, it seems, and to finally get the prize is sheer delirium for me. His lips are more perfect than I could ever imagine – soft, but so powerful and demanding. I'm sure this man below me can kiss tenderly, based on how he's treated me the last few days, but he doesn't show that now. He passionately devours my mouth, worshipping every centimeter of my lips – nudging, caresses, sucking, everything. A strong hand is still positioned on my neck, holding me in place, and his other is touching me all over my back and my bottom. It's like he's been waiting for years to do this to me, and he's making up for lost time. He can't seem to get enough of me, and I can't get enough of him.

Both of his hands move to the small of my back, and I have to stop my attack on his mouth as his gorgeous, strong hands move under my shorts and panties, groping at my bare bottom. I'd kissed men before, but this combination of physical attraction, lust, and fondness I have for Nick is electrifying and mind boggling. Never before have I been this turned on and excited from just a kiss. Well, he is also groping my butt, which adds nicely to the sensation. And it was that way when he merely touched me to help change my bandage. I'm entranced by this man, and literally cannot get enough of him.

Both of us are breathing heavily now, overcome by the attraction, emotion, and the things we are doing to each other. Not just physically, but on a deeply personal level. We're gazing into each other's eyes, taking the sight of each other in, as our hands, lips, and bodies create amazing sensations. I wonder if Nick has ever felt this way about a woman before, because I never have about another person. I devour his mouth, probing my tongue inside as his hands delve further into my panties.

Suddenly, Nick starts to sit up, gently pushing me up with him. His hands move to the outsides of my shorts as he cups my bottom again and stands up. I make a pleasantly surprised sound, and go back to showing his agile lips some much-needed attention. He turns around and set me down on the couch where he just was. Our better judgment seems to gone with the wind, as we can't stop ourselves. Nick's body is positioned above me, the definition of hunk now nuzzling and nipping at my neck. My hands go under his t-shirt at the back, relishing in the sensation of his muscular, perfect skin under my fingers. His hands seem to always be creating new, amazing sensations on my body, as his left is strongly gripping my side. They travel under my back and move back down to my ass, as he grinds his hips into mine.

This is the first blatantly sexual move Nick has made towards me, and I can't tell you enough how amazing it feels. So long, I have wondered if he is attracted to me this way. And when I feel his manhood bulging through his jeans, it leaves no question in my mind. I can feel my own body responding, and I almost carnally grind my hips up to match his moves. I attack his earlobe, and he kisses my neck forcefully, leaving no doubt what feelings have possessed him.

As he runs his hands up and down my sides lustrously, I realize I have forgotten amidst all this steaminess that I have a delicate wound on my right side. I let in a sharp breath, and can't help but say "Ow!" very loudly, my body quickly become stiff and unresponsive underneath him.

My instinctual protest seems to snap Nick out of whatever wonderful, delectable trance he was in, and he almost jumps off the couch, afraid that he's hurt me.

"Oh my God, Sara. I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?" He asks hurriedly, sitting on the edge of the couch. His fingers reach out to touch the skin just above my gash, and again, I breathe in sharply. With all our uninhibited touching, groping, and caressing, it had become irritated. I just hadn't noticed until his hand ripped at my delicate stitches.

"Sar, you're bleeding a little." Nick informs me. I look down at my naked side, and sure enough, there are a few small beads of blood seeping through the skin. I throw my head back in frustration. Ladies – he was dry humping me, and all that got in the way of me and a naked Nick Stokes was my damn stitches! Bugger! Nick doesn't seem to know how disappointing this is for me, and takes my hand, guiding me to stand up. "Let's go get you bandaged up."

Like a little kid being forced to see the nurse to get a splinter out, a lag behind him as he leads me to my bedroom. He lets go of my hand at the bed, and he goes into the bathroom to get the needed items again. I guess I must have a real pouty look on my face, because he decides to comment on my pitiful state.

"Sara, Sara. So stubborn, girl. What am I going to do with you?" He smiles as he sits next to me on the bed.

I smirk, and my face turns bright red. Oh, I could think of a few things for him to do with me, but I don't know if he's ready to hear that just yet. I bet he would've crept his hands back into my pants if my gash hadn't stopped him. But he would never continue if he was hurting me. Temporary pain, I say. And I'm wiling to suffer through a little of that if that means Nick Stokes' hand is down my panties. Like someone or other said, no pain, no gain. And I want to gain. Lots.

Nick kisses my lips, like we've been doing it for years, but it's still fresh and amazing to me. I think it will always feel that way, they way his lips carress mine. He pulls my arm to get me to stand up and positions me in front of him. His right hand rested on my left hip as he fumbled around with the hydrogen peroxide and cottonballs. I sighed uncomfortably in anticipation, recalling the pain that liquid had caused me the other day. But there was no point arguing with Nick. He was deadset on making sure I took care of myself.

Nick cleared his threats and rolled his eyes at my pouting, then he started doing the most wonderful, mind-boggling thing. Gripping both of my hips, he gently started kissing my side all around my gash, peppering loving smooches everywhere, as his thumbs traced circles on my hips. I moaned and looked down at him as he worked. This is how everyone should get a bandage changed. Well, no. I'm not sharing him.

When he reaches my shorts line, he pulls the side down slowly with his fingers, kissing the skin as it became exposed, as if coaxing it out. His tongue darts out, causing me to giggle. His eyes look up at me and he smiled, then moves to my stomach, planting wet, sexy kisses all over. I'm breathing heavily again by the time he pulls back.

"There. Will you be good for me now?" Nick smirked, like he had all the power. I let out a deep, throaty groan, running my hands in his hair.

"We'll see, cowboy." I told him, giving him a wink. He gave an aw-shucks laugh and kissed my tummy one last time. His hands left my sides to prepare the cotton ball. The hand he places at my right lower back holds me in place, as he slowly starts to dab the bloodied section of my wound. When it is cleaned up, he grips my hips again and blows seductively onto it, drying the liquid. Nick Stokes is a talented man, somehow making bandaging a wound seem like foreplay. But hey, I'm not complaining!

Nick watched my face carefully as he hooked his fingers under my shorts. Instead of just tugging them down slightly like he has before, he instead pulls them down over my hips and lets them fall to the floor, so I'm standing in front of him in just my sports bra and panties. I haven't been so naked in front of someone in a long time, and it's making me feel so sexy and wanted.

"It always gets in the way." He explained, as if he wasn't sure if that was appropriate or not. I stepped forward slightly, and kicked the shorts out of the way. Nick's hands went to the outside of my thighs, his touch light but electrifying, as he ran his fingers up and down. I couldn't stop a moan from escaping my throat, his touch doing all kinds of things to my mind and body. He just watched me for a few moments, and then leaned to kiss my lower abdomen more. His kisses slowly started making a trail downwards, towards my left hip. Nick's thumb, slowly tugs the cotton down, exposing and kissing more and more of my flesh. I can't help but just watch him, trying to figure out how on earth I could be lucky enough for this to happen to me. Nick Stokes is a kissing god.

Abruptly, he pulls away, and he knows exactly what he's doing. He grabs the gauze, cutting it with scissors to just the right size, and then places it gently on my side. Somehow, he manages to tape it down in the most sexy way ever. I don't know what it is, but he's leaving me thirsty for more. When he was done, he kissed again up my stomach, sternum, throat, and then ended his journey at my mouth. I giggle into the passionate kiss.

"I thought we definitely were not going to kiss." I jogged his memory.

Nick looked down sheepishly. He can't resist me, can he?

"How could I say no to you? You seduced me." Nick accused me.

"I seduced you?" I repeat incredulously. "You were the one touching me all over."

It had been almost torture for me days earlier when he touched me, because I didn't know if I could have him (well, delectable torture, if there is such a thing). Now that I was sure he wanted me, it was a little funny to look back on the last few days, and remember all those times we connected, but were afraid to admit it to the other. Nick laughed and kissed me again.

"Guilty." He admitted. His strong arms went around my bare lower torso, rubbing and caressing my tingly skin, and soon we were becoming lost in each other's kisses again.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So, I think it's safe to say this story has turned "mature". Snicker snicker. I know I originally said I didn't want this to turn smutty, and I'm trying my best not to! I hope this is nice and steamy, for all you snicker lovers out there. Sorry it took so long to update, and I'm still open to suggestions on where to go with this story. I have a few ideas, but still not totally sure. Please please review; I'm so stressed out with teaching right now! Thanks, and enjoy!

A kiss is a wondrous gift that you should savor and never take for granted. That is how it has always been for me, and as I have found in the last week, for Nick also. We haven't been able to keep our hands and lips off each other since our first kiss. Each time is better than the last, and I don't see how it can keep getting better. Our first kiss was amazing and passionate; our second session was tender and loving; and each time since has left me begging for more and forgetting that such things as food, work, or even breathing existed.

Fifteen minutes ago, I went to the kitchen to go make coffee, and he followed me in, dressed only in his pair of boxers. We haven't been able to make it out yet. Nick has me trapped between his rock-hard form and the counter, his hands currently on either side of my love-sick body. He's an amazing kisser, and I know he'll be an amazing lover when we take that next step. We've already started talking about that next step, but he still thinks I'm not totally well yet. I'm still having nightmares almost every night about the suspect finding me again. He's amazingly patient and understanding with me, and though I hope and pray all the time that we'll be together forever, I am truly grateful to have him as my friend.

Nick's tongue delves once more into my mouth, sweeping at mine and caressing me sweetly. My arms are perched around his neck, gently stroking at his nape, as he pushes back at my lips. His hands slowly move to my lower back, and confidently move down the curve my ass. Gripping my upper thighs, he lifts me up and places me on the counter before him. Our lips only part momentarily as I smile into his kisses.

After thoroughly kissing me some more, Nick's mouth leaves mine to pay attention to my neck and collarbone as his hands begin to snake up the back of my tank top. I arch into his hand and let out a small whimper of pleasure at the sensation he's causing on my neck. He's still sweet and gentle, like he's afraid he'll hurt me, even when I press his face closer to my skin, inviting more. The warm bare skin beneath my fingers is still as exciting to touch as the first time, as I am reminded of his strength. As his mouth continues to move down, one of his hands gently pushes my tank top strap off my shoulder, and the other at the small of my back pulls me closer.

"God, Sara, you're so beautiful." He whispers in between the open-mouthed, wet kisses he's moving slowly down my sternum. "I can't believe I went so long without touching you."

All I can do is moan back at the anticipation he's creating. The man is amazing at dragging the sensation and pleasure out, and he knows it. I push my chest out and try to direct his head downward where I need him most right now, but he's determined to make me wait. He smiles when I moan out his name, half in pleasure and half in annoyance.

His other hand has since snaked around the front of my tank top and he's gently stroking my stomach with his talented fingers, caressing every inch, moving higher each time. Nick's hot tongue and mouth finally reach the top of my breast, branding each centimeter with a fiery possessive kiss. I watch him in dire need as he finally pushes the material down bit by bit, exposing more skin and kissing each new piece. I moan when his mouth finally reaches my already hard nipple, taking it into his warmth and sucking gently. At the same time, his other hand reaches the curve of my left breast, and he caresses and squeezes it with just the right pressure to send me reeling.

I'm letting out little whimpers and holding onto his shoulders tight as he continues to work, excitement building up deep in my belly. His tongue sweeps over my exposed breast, kissing, nipping, and sucking more forcefully. Though we haven't been lovers yet, I find that I've been making never-before produced sounds of pleasure and feeling sensations to an amazing new degree. He is amazing at knowing just what I want, and drawing the pleasure out enticingly every time. I've tried imagining what our first time will be like, and my mind boggles thinking of just how much pleasure I know he'll give me. But I've also been nervous about my own performance. Though I haven't had amazing lovers, I'm sure Nick has. Will I live up to his expectations and send him reeling like he does to me?

It occurs to me as he pushes the fabric down from other breast that he's enjoying this as much as me, as I hear a deep moan in his throat. He's a breast man, I've figured out, which is certainly no problem by me. I look down and see a prominent bulge in his boxer shorts, further convincing me that he's as attracted me as I am to him. Both of his hands go to my back, pushing my body closer to his mouth. I take the chance to dive one of my hands into the front of his boxers and give him a long, lustrous stroke. He immediately moans in pleasure, causing his ministrations on my chest to stop so he can recompose himself. I love what I was just able to do to him, so I give him several more strokes up and down his thick, impressive length. He stands up straight and kisses me sloppily on the lips, our tongues mingling again as I feel him harden more beneath my touch. We're both breathing heavily, as we slouch against each other half-naked in my kitchen.

"We need to stop." He tells me non-convincingly, kneading my breasts in his hands one more time, and giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. I must look disappointed, because he laughs at me and kisses my forehead. "We can continue this later." Nick says huskily, as he removes my hand from his boxers and places both of my arms around his neck. Leaving no room for argument, he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his body. I revel in the way his bare chest feels against mine as we kiss sweetly on our journey to the living room. Seconds later, he deposits me carefully on the couch and then sits down next to me.

"Put your boobs away, Sara." He tells me, smiling. My tank top was still down from our little play session. I smile and pull the material back over my still slightly moist and well-pleasured breasts.

Turning the tv on, I lay back on the couch and take a deep breath, trying to return my breathing to normal. It seems I can never breathe normal around Nick Stokes now. What that man does to me is indescribable. Funny how just a week ago, I never conceived that he thought twice about me. How I was desperate for love and tenderness. I feel myself changing around him, like I'm more at peace with who I am, because this man cares for me. He likes, and maybe even loves me for who I am, with all my insecurities and nuances. And he doesn't take any of my crap, which I am reminded of when he takes the remote from my hand and switches the television off.

"Sara, are you forgetting something?" He asks me firmly. I look over at him, and he has his eyebrows raised, waiting for my answer.

"The coffee." I try.

"Nope."

"Taking the trash out?"

"Uh-uh."

"Making out with you again?" I smile. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. I know what it is, but it's the last thing I want to do.

"We need to leave in twenty minutes, Sar. You need to go get ready now." He informs me matter-of-factly. I sigh and moan in dread, a far cry from the sounds I was making just minutes before. Today is the day I go get my stitches out. I've been dreading it ever since they went in because I figure it's going to be painful. I mean, I basically have wire in my skin. It has to hurt, or at least be very uncomfortable, when they remove it. I've been such a baby, whining to Nick about it, pouting like a little child.

"You'll do great, baby." He whispers to me, taking my hand in his. I beat my head against the back of the couch a couple times and then look over at him. He's smirking at me; that smirk that makes me feel I'm the only other person in the world. It looks like he adores me; that he'd do anything for me; that he's fallen for me. I hope that look never goes away, because I'm quickly becoming addicted to it.

A little less than an hour later, I'm sitting in the doctor's office, where weeks ago, I sat alone as they numbed my side and put that damn stuff into my skin. My side had puffed up so bad from both the cut and the numbing treatment they'd given me. When I went home, I had looked in the mirror and cried, feeling so alone and so ugly. I wonder what would have happened if Nick had been there. He would have kissed me tenderly and told me I looked beautiful no matter what, and spent the whole day trying to get me to laugh.

Today, I'm sitting up on the examination table in my paper dress that compliments my body so well, my undies on underneath. Nick promised to stay with me the entire time, and I'm so glad that I'll have company this time. He's sitting in one of the chairs next to the table, and I realize he's watching me with growing irritation as I kick the wood with my heels.

"Sorry."

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks me, like I'm being rather childish, which I am. Nick gets up and stands in front of me, putting his hands on either side of the table.

"They're pulling wire out of my body, Nick." I point out seriously. "It can't be pleasant."

I can see Nick roll his eyes a little bit at my reasoning.

"The worst part is over, Sar. You got them put in, and now you're healed. It may be a little uncomfortable, but it's not going to hurt." He tries to reassure me. That's what the doctor said, but it doesn't mean it's true. They're not the one getting something pulled from their skin. I groan a little in disagreement and Nick kisses my forehead, letting his lips linger.

"Besides, if you're a good girl, we can have a little fun when we get home, with all those stitches out of the way." He says huskily, running his hands down the back of my paper get-up. It crunches beneath his touch, causing us both to laugh a little bit, but I start whimpering when his finger traces a path down my spine, right where the gown parts, going all the way down to my panty line.

"You look so damn sexy in this gown, you know that?" He teases me, giving me a slow, wet kiss on my waiting, supple lips. His finger hooks in my underwear, and he slowly traces it around my side and is just getting to the front when there's a knock on the door.

Sadly, Nick extracts his nimble finger from my panties and adjusts the back of my gown. He stays standing next to me as the doctor, an older and wise look woman, enters.

"Good morning, Miss Sidle." She greets me, grabbing some latex gloves from the box on the counter. "How are you feeling today?"

"Just fine. A little nervous." I admitted, smiling shyly. Nick sits down on the chair again just next to my table, but holds my hand in support.

"Well, there's nothing to be worried about. There will be a little discomfort, but that's it. I'll just need to examine it to make sure it healed up as we expected."

I never like for people to look at my body. Not doctors, and not even past lovers. A week ago, I would have been doubly uncomfortable with Nick here in the room with me, but I find it so comforting right now. He's the only person I've ever felt comfortable showing my body to. Perhaps it's the fact he insisted on helping me at my worst; that he saw my wound when it was still ugly as hell. He didn't make me feel like a specimen or a victim; he showed me that another human can show comfort, sensitivity, and love, not just during the good times, but when I had hit rock bottom.

I look over at Nick, and he knows I absolutely hate this. The look he gives me tells me that I have nothing to worry about. He is here, and that makes me feel brave. I'm brave all the time at work for other people, but never for myself. I don't trust my own mind enough to be brave for myself.

Nick moves to the other side of the table, away from where the doctor will be working. I lie down on my left side, and Nick stands next to me, holding my hand. His tender gaze is the only thing that's stopping me from bolting out that door, even if I am in a paper dress. I close my eyes for a moment as he bends down to kiss me tenderly on the temple.

"You're doing great, baby." He whispers, stroking my forearm with his other hand.

"Alright, Sara, I'm just going to push your gown away so I can see." She tells me, and I feel the cold doctor's office air hit my nervous skin, as she pushes it away from my back and over my side. My whole body trembles for a moment, and Nick squeezes my hand, sensing my discomfort. I don't want to look back there at all, but I see Nick's eyes shift to my wound. As the doctor goes over parts with her latexed fingers, his eyes do the same. I love how he looks at me, even when I feel ugly.

"Well, it seems to have healed up very nicely. Have you been getting help from this young man?" She asks cheerfully, and Nick and I both smile at each other. He's helped me in so many ways.

"Yes, ma'am." Nick tells her politely.

"You've done a great job." She assures him, and I hear her reach back to retrieve some of the instruments needed to take the stitches out. "Alright, are you ready to get these suckers out?"

I take a deep breath and look to Nick for strength.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I tell her, my voice a little shaky. Nick looks behind him and pulls another chair over so he can sit next to me while the doctor works. He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, and then lovingly strokes my cheek. The wink he gives me and twinkle in his eye helps me relax a little, but not much.

The doctor snips a little bit at different sections, breaking the stitches apart, which doesn't hurt at all. I'm wincing a little at the sound, afraid that any second now I will feel a sharp pain, but I don't. Next, I feel her pull the small pieces out. It feels a little funny, but it doesn't hurt. Nick is watching my face intently for any sign of discomfort.

"You're doing great baby." He whispers a little huskily. The doctor hits a tender part, and my body visibly tenses. I squeeze Nick's hand sharply, and he strokes my arm again in comfort, looking into my eyes.

"Okay, Sara, I'm going to get the part at your back and bottom." She tells me, which is the worst part. I turn my head so it nestles deeper into the pillow. I feel the latexed glove pull my panties down some, farther than Nick had the first time. Then, I feel the familiar, safer, and more comforting hand of Nick go to my hip, and he helps hold my panties in place so the doctor can work. Nestling partially on my hip and bottom, his warm hand lays securely, helping me through this embarrassing ordeal. It's familiarity, though the feeling of it still conjures up other thoughts that I shouldn't have in a doctor's office.

When the doctor turns back to retrieve something else, I feel his fingers squeeze my hip, and his pinky strokes my skin for a few moments. It's just the acknowledgment I need. Funny at what just one tiny gesture of a finger can do. Nick is the master of these tiny messages of tender and love.

Finally, the doctor is done, and she deems me stitchless. Nick pulls up my panties and puts my gown back where it belongs as I lay down on my back.

"I'll give you a prescription for some ointment to keep this clean, which you'll need to use for one week." She instructs me, quickly scribbling the order down for me. "If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, doctor." Nick says, waiting for her to go out the door. He leans over me and gives me a slow, tender kiss. "See. It wasn't that bad was it?" His eyebrows go up in amused question, waiting for my answer.

"I think I would have freaked out if you weren't here." I admit, cupping his cheek and gently stroking his soft face. Bringing him down for another slow kiss, I realize I could stay here all day with him kissing me. It doesn't matter where we are, but he hurries me along after a few seconds.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI

Later on that evening, Nick is discovering another one of my fetishes – having my hair brushed. My eyes are closed and my head droops forward a little as I sit on the floor in front of the couch with him behind me. It's so relaxing, the way his hands skillfully pull and stroke at my hair. I've never had the nerve to ask a boyfriend or lover to do this for me, but I felt totally comfortable asking Nick. He'd do anything to make sure I'm feeling okay.

I listen to his even, comforting breathing pattern as the brush works at my dark, silky hair. His skillful hands stroke the falling pieces back, as devious pieces fall in front of my ear. For some reason, I've always found this pleasurable – just the closeness of having someone tenderly stroking my hair.

After several blissful minutes of this, Nick sweeps my hair to one side, and lets it hang over my right shoulder. He kisses the nape of my neck sweetly and slowly several times, causing a smile to form on my face.

"You doing okay?" He whispers dangerously close to my ear, his breath tickling my senses. It's heaven to have him so close to me, and not worry whether it's inappropriate to want it.

"Mmmhmmm." I manage, turning my head to the side so my lips meet his cheek. Giving him a tender, thankful kiss, his hands drop to my shoulders, gently stroking up and down.

"Do you want me to do your nails too?" He teases me, so I lightly punch him in the leg.

"If you're offering." I counter, trying to turn back to look at him. Nick helps pull me up on the couch, and he sits back. I sit between his opened legs as I feel his hand start to work my back. My throat lets out an involuntary moan at the magic he can always work up with just a few firm, warm strokes.

I think we both know we're past the friend stage now, but my heart always flutters when he starts to touch me this way. Never have I known such an intimate, caring touch, and now I don't know how I ever lived without it.

Nick's lips return to the nape of my neck, planting first tiny, soft kisses, but they soon become firmer and open-mouthed; even demanding. They slowly make their way to the side of my neck, sucking and worshipping every centimeter of the sensitive flesh. His left hand drops to my hip, stroking up and down over the fabric of my tank top, and I start to stroke his thighs in appreciation, trying my best to arch into his talented touch.

My heart starts beating faster when his left hand returns to my hip, and this time travels underneath, feather touching the skin beneath. His mouth journeys to my upper back, exposed down to my shoulder blades, placing open-mouthed, lustrous, perfect kisses there. The pads of his fingers are slowly working my tank top up inch by agonizing inch, stroking the expanse of my sides and lower back. Occasionally, he returns his attention to my neck and shoulders, expertly making the skin he brands tingle.

Soon, I'm squirming in his touch, wanting so much more, but afraid he doesn't. We're both breathing heavily now, not saying a word, as our hands roam each other's bodies. Nick's hands grab my sides and pull me backwards so I'm leaning flush against his chest. I can feel his excitement poking at my lower back, and this only turns me on more. Stroking all over, his hands work their way under my tank top in the front, caressing the slight bulge of my belly, making me feel perfect; like I'm all he's ever wanted.

My hands plant themselves on top if his now, encouraging him along as he strokes safely across my abdomen, his lips now all over my cheek, ear, and neck. My fingertips on his, I try to communicate that it's alright. I'm healed now. Do what you want to me. Nothing is off limits now, but somehow I think he still wouldn't let things go all the way just yet. I guide his warm hands higher, throwing my head back at his shoulder. His warm breath tickles my face as I finally feel his hands cup my chest completely, massaging my small globes in his large hands. I moan at the contact, and let my hands travel to his head, stroking at his short hair while he continues to work.

"God, Nick…" I moan as he massages me firmly, feeling incredible sensations wave through my body. Pushing my chest out into his touch seems to encourage him, as his kisses are getting more fervent and passionate. My right hand returns to his, and I finally decide I want him to make that next move. I desperately want him to touch me, for him to know how ready I am for that next step. How whole and complete he has made me feeling after only a week, I can only imagine how my attachment and fondness of him will grow over time.

Nick's breath hitches as he feels what I am doing, and he stops kissing my skin, watching his hand being guided. Down, down, my ribcage, my belly button, my abdomen, until his fingers reach the top of my panty line. I stroke the back of his hand a couple times before I return it to the back of his neck, hoping he wants what I want. The pads of his fingers gently stroke the skin above the lacy black thong I put on after returning home, and I think I may have stopped breathing. Ever so slowly, his fingers creep under the elastic, and I whimper.

"Sara…" He whispers huskily into my ear. "What do you want me to do?"

I manage to whisper the words that I hope will take us to the next level; to make him realize how much he completes me, and how much I need him. Of all the things I've ever wished in my life, I pray this is the way to get Nick, the only man I think I've ever desired and loved this much, to make me his forever.

"Touch me."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Howdy, my patient readers! I'm really busy with school right now, but I'm scrambling a bit to find time to write! I hope you enjoy this update; I have some awesome things in store! Please drop me a review!

Hot lips on my neck, his racing heartbeat echoing into my back, I try to regain control of my breathing, but I don't think it will happen. How many years has it been since someone has touched me down here? It's sad to think how long it's been, but now the moment is here I can't believe I've missed it for this long. Nick's strong, suntanned hand has disappeared into my panties, passing over my soft curls, still traveling down, down, down.

One of his fingers makes a tentative stroke up and down, already finding wetness there from his amazing ministrations. I whimper at his touch, my hips moving into his hand. His other hand, at my left side, squeezes me a little, holding me still, as his hot mouth continues to place fiery kisses on my neck.

"Mmmnmnnm…" I make the strangest sounds around him, but I have never known such sensations. Two of his fingers begin to make large, firm circles, going at an agonizingly slow pace. My right hand is on his muscular forearm, stroking and scraping fingernails over it in deep appreciation. My other is perched in his hair, raking through it at the same pace he's going.

"Aaa—ah-haah-uh…" I moan loudly when one of his digits intrudes my hot core. He pushes all the way in, and his finger curls up, massaging the muscles inside. Even though I can't see his face, I can feel him smile into the nape of my neck, where he's kissing me again. My hand that was in his hair has come down now to his thigh, to steady myself as he works. Nick's left hand makes a stroke over my bare abdomen, and then over my breasts and nipples.

"God, Sara, you feel so good…" He whispers huskily. The sheer masculinity of his voice, paired with the husky, deep sound of his voice almost causes me to lose it. He inserts a second finger, the girth of the digits creating an even better sensation. I can't help but move my hips in time to his strokes now, wanting more of the incredible pleasure I'm getting out of what he's doing to me.

I work my hips backward, making sure I'm hitting his groin area, and I can feel his length hard against the cleft of my bottom. I hear him moan at the action my hips are working against him, and allow myself a small smile. It takes only a few more minutes of his expert strokes before my muscles clamp down around his fingers, and I scream out in pleasure.

I take deep breaths, my chest heaving from the excitement. Nick kisses me all over my upper back and neck as I recover, a job extremely well done. He did that with just his fingers – oh my!

After I manage to compose myself, I stand up and turn around, kicking my pants off, and straddling his lap. He looks a little surprised at the bold mood, smirking up at me a little, and his large hands go to my bare sides. My mouth is on his moments later, kissing him passionately. I thrust against his hips bravely, still something inside of me wondering if he's actually as in to me as I'm in to him. The groan I get is affirmative.

Nick breaks the kiss after a minute or so, and I realize his hands have gone to my tank top, finally peeling it off over my head, leaving my torso completely naked before him. His fingers gently trace my scar, a reminder of how we were finally brought together after so much time. All I'm wearing now is my lacey black thong. His hands move to cup my bottom, the flesh on flesh feeling still amazing as he strokes and rubs tenderly.

Our mouths and tongues continue to mingle, as I sit practically naked on top of him. He's still fully clothed, but I plan to do something about that very quickly. My hands reach for the hem of his t-shirt, and his hands leave me momentarily for me to take it off. I absolutely love Nick's chest. It's not overly muscular, but still so perfectly toned and deliciously hard. My hands rub up and down his naked, hairless pecs and abs, as my lips kiss the corner of his mouth, then his square jaw, down his strong neck. One of his hands is on my ass again as I place open-mouthed kisses on his collar bone and continue downward, his other becoming buried in my wild, mussed hair, encouraging me along.

"So beautiful." He whispers to me. I flick my tongue out over one of his nipples and I hear him sigh in pleasure, stroking my hair in appreciation. I move to sit on my knees on the floor in front of him, knowing from experience what a guy normally wants next. His erection is straining to get out of those jeans of his. I kiss my way down his chest and rock-hard abs until I finally meet the top of his jeans. I run a finger over the bulge seductively and then nip at it with my teeth. His head falls back on the couch and he groans my name.

I'm continuing to tease him when I feel his strong hands grip my upper arms and pull me up. I'm forced to straddle his lap again and my eyes question his, confused.

"Not right now." He whispers, kissing my forehead sweetly, and he gives me a smirk. "Maybe another time." Nick's hand cups my breast and squeezes, and his eyes let me know it's okay. I've never enjoyed performing oral sex on a man, but with Nick, I was actually in the mood to do it. I can see, though, that he wants to save this for another time.

"Let's just touch and kiss." He tells me, kneading my globes in his hands again, and then letting them travel to my back, as our lips join in another lustrous kiss. Our tongues mingle, the sexy sound of two turned-on beings kissing the only sound in the room. Planting a single finger in the middle of his chest, I let it wander down slowly, feeling his breathing hitch and his muscles twitch, as they reach the button of his jeans. We continue to kiss as I work the button of his jeans, and then successfully and enticingly pull the zip down. His member is finally freed from the constraints, and he's already rock hard.

We stop kissing and both look down as I pull his length from his boxer shorts. I immediately grip it in my warm, awaiting hand, giving a slow stroke up the impressive size. We both moan, and I think about how good he'll feel inside me. He seems to really like watching me touch him, so I continue to stroke up and down, alternating the amount of pressure I'm using. I rub at the large tip, teasing him little, and then continue to run my finger up and down the back side of it. He's moaning, and I can tell by the look on his face how much he's enjoying this. I haven't had a chance to touch and caress him much yet, since he's been so concerned with my well-being.

"I can't wait to have you inside me." I whisper into his ear, one hand planted on his chest, and the other continuing my efforts on his length.

"I can't wait to have myself buried in you, baby." He whispers back, bringing my mouth to his. I thrust my hips against his a few times, as if challenging to make that next move, since we both want it so bad.

"So take me." I tell him, replacing one of his hands on my breast, keeping my hand there, and looking into his eyes. He seems to consider it a moment, his mouth going to my other breast and sucking forecefully at the nipple, laving his tongue all over. His mouth returns to mine, as I'm gripping his length more firmly now, and rubbing my hips against his. All that would need to be done was move my thong aside, and his length could be buried deep inside me, where it belonged.

"Sar," He says, in that tone that is telling me to snap back to reality. "We need to stop."

"But I need you inside me." I moan at him, making another thrust at his groin. His hands go to my hips, and he firmly grips me, stopping my movements. He kisses my forehead tenderly and squeezes with his hands. The proof that he wants this just as much as I do is throbbing in my hands, so I give him another lustrous stroke, trying to convince him to stay the course.

"Sar." He warns again, removing my hand from his member, and instead placing it on his shoulder. I pout like a little kid and slouch in his arms. He smirks and runs his big hands up and down my naked back, pulling me in for another kiss. When his hands go to cup my face and hair, I take the opportunity for another carefully directed humping action at his groin. I'm pleasantly surprised, dare I say, when both of his hands grip my bottom again, and he gives me a little playful swat.

"Hey." I pouted a little bit, causing him to smile.

"No more moving, or I'll do it again." He warns me playfully. I consider doing it again just to see what he'd do, but then I decide to save that for another time. Nick gave me another lusty kiss, and I feel his hands cup my bottom again. "It's getting late." He declared. "We need to go to bed."

Nick stood up and set me down so he could zip his jeans up again. I could still stare at his muscular, firm chest all day long, and I reach out to touch it again. Nick knows that if we start touching again, we'll never get to sleep. Not that I mind. I figure I can sleep when I'm dead, but Grissom tends to look down upon sleepwalking at work.

Nick turns me around, and gives me a little nudge towards the bedroom, still in just my lacey thong. He follows me into the bedroom, crashing onto it, and I stop of the chest of drawers to fish out a comfortable pair of panties and a t-shirt to sleep in. I look back at him and smile, removing my thong in the most erotic way possible, trying to give him hell for turning me down. He laughs at me, the sexy lines appearing on his face. I put my panties and shirt on, and climb into bed, and Nick has since slipped out of his jeans and is in just his boxers.

Nick pulls me back against his hard, masculine body so that we're spooning, and he kisses my neck a few times sweetly. His right arm drapes around my stomach, his hand splaying possessively on my stomach. I close my eyes and just relish in the feel of being in Nick's arms – the only place I've ever really felt safe.

My mind starts to wonder as I lay in bed with Nick, feeling his heartbeat against my back, his breath on my neck, and my body in his arms. It's a feeling of security I've searched for my whole life. After growing up in an abusive home, I find myself always waiting for my relationships with men to turn sour. One day I feared I'd piss them off, and they'd finally hit me, choke me, slam me against a wall, like my father did to my mother. I've always been intimidated by men, but as I lay safe in Nick's arms, I know in my heart that this man would never do me any harm. Nick would never lay an angry finger on me. Why did my mother put up with that for so long? Why couldn't she find someone as caring and perfect as the man laying behind me?

The last time I visited my mother in prison, she made me promise her to never end up in her situation. To never tolerate a man laying a hand on me, and I had vowed not to. She would be so proud that I found someone like Nick. I longed to see my mother and talk to her; to be able to call her like other women did when she found that special someone. I want to let her know that I'll be okay now. I've found a man that treats me like I could break if he didn't handle me carefully; his touch light as a feather. Deep down, I think that would be the best reward for my mother – to see me in a normal, healthy relationship.

I think Nick is asleep, so I let my guard down and let myself cry a little. I cry for my mother's situation; about how the system had failed her. She spent so many years being afraid and trying to protect me and my brother, and when she finally takes matters back into her control, they throw her in jail. I miss my mother so badly sometimes. Suddenly, I start to fear that this whole thing with Nick is just a fling – how could I deserve someone as perfect as him? Soon, he'll realize he made a mistake, and leave me, going on to his next woman.

The next thing I know, I feel Nick's hand leave my stomach and brush some hair away from my face. Dammit, I thought he was asleep! I don't want him to see me crying right now. I've been doing so well since the attack, and I don't want him to think I'm slipping back to that horrible place I was in before he saved me.

"Sar, you're crying." He whispers, perching himself up on his elbow. His hand goes back to my hip, and he gently turns me so I'm laying on my back and I can't hide. Nick kisses both of my eyelids. Such an intimate gesture, and it makes me feel so safe all over again. If this man ever leaves me, I don't know what I'll do. His hand rubs up and down my arm, trying to calm me down. All I can do is cling to him, my arms going around his naked back, pulling him as close as I can. Nick rests his head at the crook of my neck, probably wondering what the hell was going on. Sometimes I can be so emotionally fragile, and I think that's why many of my relationships with men have failed. But I feel Nick won't let that happen. The other men I've been with aren't half the person Nick is.

I let myself sob, and Nick just holds me, waiting for me to calm down. He pulls back after a few minutes and strokes my tear-stained cheek with his finger. I'm breathing deeply now, the crying having stopped as I try to recompose myself. Knowing Nick, he's not going to let me get by with a brush off.

"Talk to me, sweetheart." He requests gently. "Tell me what you're thinking." He gazes down at me, and I don't think I'll ever be able to keep a secret from him.

"It's stupid." I tell him right off the back, looking away. His hand immediately cups my chin and turns my head back to face him, his eyes serious as can be, but so caring.

"Sara Sidle, nothing you think could be stupid." Nick tells me firmly, forcing me to look him in the eye. "Now tell me what's going on." His head rests in his hand, and his other takes my hand in his. They rest together on my stomach, and I look down at them for a moment before starting.

"I was just…thinking about my mother. About how she thought she never deserved a man as wonderful as you." I spill, rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand. Nick doesn't say anything, just waits for me to continue.

"She just let him. She let him hit her, and kick her, and put her down, and pretty soon she started believing she was a piece of scum. I grew up around that, so my choices in men haven't been all that great. Until you." I look up into his eyes, and he's listening to me with all the care and concern in the world.

"Nobody deserves to be treated like that. And I'm sorry you had to see that." Nick tells me, something I know deep in my mind, but sometimes I feel I should expect that out of men. When your own father, the most important man in your life, beats the living daylights out of you at the age of six, you begin to think that you should expect that treatment from every man. You're supposed to love your father, but I hated him, and I know that's screwed up my thought process with every boyfriend I've had.

"Nick. Do you really care about me? Or am I just another girl to you?" I ask bravely, not knowing where I got the braveness to ask that. Nick seems dumbfounded for a few moments, and doesn't answer immediately.

"Sara, how could you think that?" He asks me, his eyes changing to a confused, questioning form. "I care about you so much, not like any other person before."

"But how can you be so sure? How do you know after just a week?" I ask him seriously, turning in his arms so now we're facing each other.

"I just know. I have this feeling in my gut I've never had before, and it's because of you." His hand strokes my hair again, making me feel like the most delicate object. "I ache for you. I spend every moment I'm away from you just thinking about you. How I want to get back to you, and touch you, feel your perfect skin against mine…" He kisses my forehead, "And hold you forever. That's not a feeling I've ever experienced."

There's something about this blind love he talks about that scares me. My mother was so blind that she couldn't see enough to get the hell out of the marriage to my father. Love does strange things to people, and the thought of being completely in love with someone scares the hell out of me. That would mean I would be surrendering myself completely, trusting that person entirely. I've been hurt so much by what I thought was love. How can he be so sure of himself, when I have all these questions running through my mind?

"Do you love me?" I whisper, a tear rolling down my cheek on to the pillow. Nick's answer is a passionate kiss. He cups my face gently in his hands, gently pushing and pulling at my lips with his perfect, soft ones. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, immediately sending a signal deep in my belly, reminding me how much I want this man, and need this man. After a slow, thorough kiss, Nick pulls away and looks into my eyes.

"Yes, Sara. I've realized this last week that I do love you. I care about you so much, and I want you to let me prove that to you."

No one's ever said something like that to me; that he's actually going to prove it to me. I can only imagine what that will entail – a lot of fun, of course, but also those deep, tender moments talking late at night like we are now; making me talk about my feelings; and true companionship. My soul has never yearned for another like I yearn for Nick. I feel like I need him desperately, that when he's near, my life is okay. My messed up life, my warped thinking – it's all okay when I'm around Nick.

Nick shifts his weight, and our hands come apart as he pushes me down gently on my back. Those large, warm hands I have come to adore so much rubs at the skin on my belly, underneath my tank top as his muscular form hovers over me. His tongue snakes out and licks at my bottom lip, seeking permission once again to invade my mouth. It's easily granted, as I open his mouth to him and let his tongue explore each crevasse inside. His touch is always just right; just what I need, as his thumb teases my milky skin at my tummy. It's amazing how he seems to have a different way of kissing for all of my moods – right now he's being so tender and gentle, knowing I need to feel safe and surrounded by him. He finishes a few minutes later, kissing my forehead. Nick gazes down at me, his hand still caressing my sensitive skin.

"I want to go visit my mother. And I want you to come with me." I request, a little out of the blue. I try to visit my mother a few times a year, not as much as I'd like. But San Francisco is farther away than it seems. I want my mother to see him; to see that she really did do a good job with me. My childhood has not tainted my adult relationships. I think my need to see my mother is more for me, not her. Showing her what a great man I have found will further convince me that I've broken free from the handcuffs of my upbringing. It will be a positive step in my life, and I want it to be with Nick by my side.

"Of course." He says, without hesitation, causing me to smile a little in appreciation. Nick's willing to drop everything just for me; he doesn't even question it. "If that's what you want."

"Yes, Nicky. I want you to meet her, and I know she'll be thrilled to meet you." I haven't even written to her yet, to let her know I've finally found someone, because it's all happened to fast. She doesn't even know that Nick exists, or that I've been attracted to him for the last six years.

"Okay, then. But now we need to get to sleep so we don't nod off on the job tomorrow." He tells me, giving me one last kiss before settling his head back on his pillow. His strong arms again pull me to him, and I know that I am home again.

CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI

Nobody at work knows about us yet, and I'm not quite sure why we're so ancy about letting everyone know. Things between Grissom and I have always been…interesting, I guess is a good way to put it. Everyone always thought that if I were to end up with someone from work, it would be him. I don't know when we'll tell people that we're officially dating – maybe when they notice that we arrive at work at the exact same time every day. Or maybe one day Nick will accidentally answer my home phone. I want to shout it out to the world that I have found someone special, but for some reason at work I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing. Probably because they'd tease the hell out of us.

I walk down one of the long hallways of the CSI headquarters smiling to myself, just thinking of all the experiences I've shared with Nick so far, and dreaming of the times to come. I booked the plane tickets this morning to San Francisco, and we're leaving this weekend. We'll have to at least partially explain to our coworkers why we're getting on a plane together headed for the west coast, but that detail we can work out later.

I'm about to turn the corner into the reception area, when I hear Nick's distinctive voice trying to calm down an irate female one that I do not recognize. I can't make out what they're saying, but as I reach the desk, I immediately don't like the proximity at which Nick is standing to this woman. I never realized I could be so possessive. His body is literally inches from hers, their eyes looking directly at each other and nowhere else, as Nick seems to be consoling her. It could perhaps be a victim, which we have to, on occasion, calm down ourselves. But Nick never gets this close to a victim – it just doesn't happen. I know, because I've always watched him closely in fascination, the way he deals with people.

The woman, in her mid thirties, dressed in a denim mini skirt and low cut top revealing some prominent cleavage, is crying. Her heavily made up eyes are showing signs of leaking mascara from the tears she's shedding. Nick has always been sympathetic, and often criticized for the way he gets close to victims, but this is different. As I watch him calmly talk to her, I realize this is the way he talks to me when I'm upset, and I don't like it one bit. Jealousy starts to boil in my blood, and I want that woman away from Nick. I thought the way he handled me to delicately meant something, but apparently it's not the star treatment I thought it was.

The last straw is when I see Nick's hand go to her shoulders, and he actually pulls the woman to his chest – the same chest that he held me closely to last night. My hand goes to my mouth as I see him kiss her hair tenderly, my stomach starting to churn in hurt and disgust with him and myself. I thought Nick was an honorable man; that I could trust him; but I can see right before my eyes that he's no different from any of those scumbags before him. How could I be so stupid to trust him?

The way he'd kissed me, held me, caressed me so tenderly the last week – had it all been a lie? Had he been playing with me all along? What about last night? He'd told me he loved me and wiped away my tears, and that he'd never felt this way about anybody. All the self-respect and love that had been building up inside me comes crashing down. I kick the reception desk hard, rudely announcing my presence, and I see both of them jump. I turn and dash out of the room angrily, hurt unlike any other time in my life. Nick calls after me, but I keep running as fast as I can, away from the man I thought I could trust, and had now betrayed me like all the others before.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks so much for all the amazing reviews – welcome to the site, Cat! I hope you enjoy reading all the Snicker stories! I had a lot of feedback about who the woman should be, so I hope everyone is satisfied. School really sucks right now, so reviews make me doubly happy. You guys rock, and thanks for being so supportive of this story. It's fun to write! Without further ado…

Nick is still calling my name as I run through the halls of the CSI headquarters. If he thinks he can explain this away he has something else coming to him. I saw how he touched her – it was the touch you only share for someone you love. Someone you've shared intimate and tender moments with. I don't want to see Nick; to listen to him try to explain what happened, because my heart is already broken and I couldn't stand to see his face.

I reach the locker room, hoping someone else will be in there so he can't confront me, because I can hear him running after me still. Greg is in there, luckily, changing into his work clothes and I'm relieved to see him. I stop and sit down on the bench to catch my breath. Nick arrives seconds later, stopping at the end of the benches. His face – I can't get over his face. It shows that he knows he's been caught. He looks guilty, like one of the suspects at a crime scene, but he also looks irritated. Is he angry that his little lie has been uncovered? That I'll no longer be one of his little toys he can mess around with? Eat your heart out, Nick.

Nick looks from me to Greg, knowing that we can't have a private conversation with him here. Nobody even knows about us, and this isn't how we need them finding out. Well, I suppose it doesn't much matter now, since he seems to have someone else.

"Sara, can I talk to you outside? Please." Nick requests, urgency and a hint of annoyance in his familiar voice. His hands are perched on his hips, in battle mode.

"No. I'm perfectly fine. Isn't there a crime scene you need to head to?" I tell him dryly, trying to drill my hurt eyes into his soul. Deep down where it hurts, like I'm hurting now.

"I'm not going anywhere until I speak with you." He takes a step towards me, and I spin up off the bench, moving to put in the combination to my locker.

"Well, I'm not available." I tell him shortly. Greg looks over at me, sensing that something isn't quite right. I hope he's not reading between the lines, knowing that I let my guard down and let someone into my life that I shouldn't have. It's a mistake I've made too many times, but I thought this time was different. Obviously, I was turned love blind once again.

I feel myself shiver as Nick approaches me. He still has an effect on me, and I can't help it. I think I'm even more angry that I still want him, still crave him, but yet I need to push him away. Nick gently grabs my wrist and he tries to move to look me in the face.

"Sara, don't do this. Let me explain." He says as quietly as possible, so Greg won't hear, but there's an edge in his voice. I feel the anger and jealousy boil up in me again, and I feel sick from his touch. I trusted him, and he betrayed me. I try to take my hand back, but he won't let me, so I panic. Suddenly, I push Nick the hardest I can and bolt out the locker room. He stumbles backwards and has to catch himself against the locker, and I'm sure Greg is way confused by now. I don't know where to go, but I keep running, running, running until I realize I'm in the middle of the parking lot.

Not knowing where to go and not caring anymore, I run and stop in between a couple of Denalis, just wanting to be alone. The realization hits me that I'm back to square one – back to being alone and depressed, because I sure as hell aren't letting Nick near me anymore. I decide to just squat down there in the parking lot, and I just put my head in my hands and start to cry. The sobs are wrenching, my body shaking from the hurt deep in my gut. I can't believe I was so stupid to fall for someone so hard. I trusted Nick with my heart; he comforted me when I was feeling the lowest ever. I even trusted him to him see my body, something I'm very self-conscious about, and only after a few days. I think of his lips on mine, on my skin, how gentle his touch was. How could he do that when he had some bimbo? Could he not see how special that was to me? And those eyes – I'd never seen such love staring back at me. How could he fake that love so well?

Minutes later, I hear the gravel move on the other side of the Denali, and I know it must be him. I don't even look up, feeling him approach from the front, still taking in loud, painful breaths. I guess I wouldn't be too hard to find. He crouches down in front of me, but I refuse to look at that gorgeous face of his.

"Sara…" He starts.

"Don't!" I tell him firmly. Nick clears his throat a little, and I hope it's because he knows he screwed up big time.

"Will you just listen? I can explain." He pleads with me, and I can feel the power of his gaze on me. The way he looks at me always makes my bones melt, and I can't stand it now. I don't say anything, ready to hear his cowardly explanation.

"Sara, that was…Mia. An ex-girlfriend of mine." He tells me, and I can tell he's nervous. "We're not together anymore. She just lost someone very close to her, and I was the only person she could think of to come to. I was just trying to help her."

"I saw you with your hands on her!" I finally look up, fury in my eyes, and he looks like he really messed up. "I saw you kiss her on the head! You don't just do that to someone you're not with!"

"Sara, I'm sorry. I just…she doesn't have anyone else." He tells me, and I hope he realizes this is a crap explanation. I breathe in and out deeply, willing myself to stay calm. His hand reaches out for mine, and I want to grab it back, but that familiar warmth and strength is there. I know that I still love him; that I'm attracted to him, but I am so angry and hurt right now. I need to get away from him, so I snatch my hand away and get up quickly, tears in my eyes. I can't have him hurting me any more. I can't take that chance again.

"Sara!" He calls after me, and I feel his strong hand on my arms. Nick spins me around so I'm facing him. I push against his strong chest, but he keeps a firm grip on me, possessing my other arm also.

"Let go of me!" I growl, still sobbing.

"Sara, I don't love her! She doesn't mean anything to me, and she never did!" I look into his face, and I see determination, love, and I think fear. He desperately wants me to believe this, but I don't know if I can.

"Sure didn't look like it to me! I can't believe I ever wanted to sleep with you! Is that why you won't make love to me? Because you have someone else at home?" I yell back at him, still struggling to get away. I think of the times when things between us got hot and steamy, and he had ended it, not willing to go all the way. Now I'm glad it didn't get that far, because the rejection would be more than I could bear.

"No, Sara! We're not together! Nothing happened! She was in tears, and I'm not the type of person to just sit there and watch someone cry. She needed a shoulder to cry on." He growls, still keeping a hold on me. It's not a painful or threatening hold, but I can feel how desperate he is.

"I loved you Nick!" I sob, barely able to recognize my own voice. "How could you do that when you knew I loved you!"

"You know I love you too, Sara, and that's the reason you should realize that nothing could ever happen with someone else. I gave her a hug, and I kissed her hair. Big deal. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done that for a person you care about."

I think back to all the times Nick had been reprimanded for getting too close to a victim. It just wasn't in his being to sit there and watch someone cry; to watch someone in pain and not do anything about it. That's just how he's built. That's the reason he came to my apartment to check on me that first day, and it's why he couldn't stop himself from comforting Mia. What he does could be considered admirable, but I feel selfish. If he's going to be with me, it has to stop.

"That's not good enough for me. Do you know how much something like a hug or a kiss on the head means to me? I don't just share that with anyone, Nick, but you seem to think it's okay to pass them out like candy bars on Halloween. Do you know how I felt when I saw you there with her?" My voice is quivering now, and I curse myself for letting him see my vulnerability again. His grip on my arms has since lessened, and we've stopped yelling, but my pulse is still racing.

"I'm sorry, Sar. I didn't know it would be that big of a deal." He tells me, his voice low and caring. "It's just part of who I am, but if it upsets you, the woman that I love, then I will stop. Because you are the most important thing to me."

A gentle breeze is blowing my hair, and Nick reaches out and tucks the wayward pieces behind my ear. I make the mistake of looking up into his caring eyes; the eyes I have come so familiar with and have learned to love. How can I deny the love I find there? It's everything I've wanted and craved my entire life, standing right her in front of me.

Nick's finger goes to my chin and tilts it up gently, and I feel his warm lips descend on mine. Minutes earlier, I would have pushed him away, cursing up a storm, but I give in, feeling that strong but tender love his lips provide. I don't respond at first, but then I start to kiss him back, letting our mouths fall into a familiar rhythm. Both his hands move to cup my head, and mine go to his muscular arms, just holding on to him. The kiss becomes deeper as we both open our mouths to each other, and his tongue sweeps inside, sealing my forgiveness of him.

Soon, I feel myself being pushed against the Denali behind, and Nick traps me between it and his delicious body. I know we're at work, but we both know we can't seem to resist each other when we get started. We start to kiss more heavily, and one of his hands travels down to my butt, squeezing it gently, and then to my thigh, lifting it and wrapping it around his own body. He presses his hips into mine, and I can feel how excited he is after just a few minutes tongue-dueling with me. I smile and giggle a little, as it's obvious he wants me to know how turned-on he is. Nick pulls back a little, smiling, and kisses my nose.

"What are you laughing at?" His soft eyes question mine.

"Being a little forward for work, aren't we?"

"What, I can't show the woman I love how much she turns me on? You know I can't resist you, Sara Sidle."

He's looking into my eyes still smiling, and I can't help but laugh again. What would Grissom say if he saw us out in the parking lot, making out, with me pushed up against one of his precious Denalis.

"You won't be laughing when we get home tonight." He jokes with me, those beautiful laugh lines appearing all over his gorgeous face.

"Oh really?" I challenge him. "What will I be doing?"

Nick smiles and looks away for a minute.

"Well, if I do things right, you'll be moaning and screaming my name. Making all kinds of sounds." His voice is husky, and I just about melt in his arms. No one has ever told me something so erotic, and before I can muster up a witty comeback, his lips are on mine again, demanding and passionate. I'm glad I have the Denali behind me to brace myself against his hard, adoring kiss, his mouth and tongue doing all sorts of things to my insides. I feel that wonderful ache at the bottom of my belly, and I'm sure there is evidence of my arousal between my legs.

He pulls away, leaving me breathless and desperately wanting more. I wish he could take me right here, right now in the parking lot, but we need to be able to go back to our jobs tomorrow morning.

"Want me to come over after work?" He asks me, as if I would say no.

"If I can wait that long." I tell him, tracing a single finger down his chest, letting it pass over his flat belly and downward, until it stops at the top of his jeans. I tug on the hem a little bit, teasing him. I look into his eyes, and don't know how I'll be able to get through this shift. It will be the longest day ever, knowing that when it's over, Nick Stokes is going to take me home and make me moan and scream his name, as he put it so eloquently. I'm not one to give myself to a man, but I know the feeling of completely surrendering my body to him will be amazing, unlike any other. I feel my body tighten just at the thought of the sensations he'll cause me to have. I can't wait to be trapped between my soft mattress and his rock-hard sculpted body, giving into the pleasure and giving myself to him in the most intimate, personal way.

Thinking about it causes me to let out the tiniest whimper, but he catches it. He laughs a little at me and then captures my lips again, one of his large fingers touching a piece of exposed skin at my side.

He nips at my earlobe and then leans in to whisper huskily into my ear. "I'll make it well worth the wait, baby."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Weeeellll it's been a while, hasn't it. : ) Thanks so much for the reviews from the last chapter and sorry to keep you waiting so long! I've been working on this for weeks, trying to get it right. I originally didn't want to make it turn smutty, but it's kind of where the story wanted to go. Without further ado….

It was the longest day of work ever! Do you know how hard it is to try to concentrate on analyzing forensic evidence when Nick Stokes has basically told you he wants to take you home and ravish you? All day, every time he comes near me, I feel my body shiver, just thinking about what's going to happen, and I can tell he just loves it. The accidental brushing up against me all afternoon has not been so accidental, but I'm not going to complain. He seems to get great amusement out of watching me squeal.

Nick comes up to me in the locker room just as I'm putting away the last of my work items, putting his hands on my hips, his lips hovering dangerously close to my ear. Again, a shiver runs through my body at his proximity and what a simple touch will do to my insides.

"Hey, baby." He kisses my neck and squeezes my hips a little, his voice husky and low. "We still on for tonight?"

I'm pretty much speechless when he grinds his hips against my butt and kisses me again on the neck. He knows exactly what he's doing, and I can feel him smiling from behind me. My face is bright red as I start to stutter an answer.

"Of course." I smile, turning my head to see his. His beautiful laugh lines are all over his face, and I want to kiss each and every one. Nobody's in the room with us at the moment, so we steal a passionate kiss, and Nick's thumb rubs the skin at my hip. We both break away a few moments later, knowing we can't be showing affection at work, but man it's hard not to put my hands and lips on him when he's near.

"I've gotta run by the bank real quick, and then I'll be at your place." He whispers to me, his fingers sending all kinds of signals deep in my belly.

"I'll be waiting for you." I manage to get out, though I don't know how much longer I'll be able to wait. I mean, I've had a crush on this guy for six years now, but he's always been off limits. Within the last week, a flame of desire has been lit inside me, and all I can think about is Nick, Nick, Nick. I know he wants me just as much as I want him, and the longing aches inside my body every second of every day. I can't believe I've managed to go this long without him.

"I can't wait." He whispers into my ear, and my legs almost turn into Jell-o. It's amazing how I can come apart in his arms just by a few simple touches and words. Nick gives me one last kiss on the neck, and his body leaves mine. I know it will only be for a little while, but I still feel a sense of loss. Never before have I felt so drawn to another body.

Somehow, I manage to pack up the rest of my things, get in my car, and head back to my apartment. I decide to change out of my work clothes, and consider putting on some sexy lingerie, but decide against it. Our relationship up to this point hasn't been about seduction and glorified flaunting, it's been about trust and companionship. He helped me through one of the hardest times in my life, with tenderness, gentleness, and care. The great sex I know we'll have is not about lust, like it has been in past relationships. I know Nick truly cares for me and loves me, something I've never had before.

Instead, I change into a pair of boy shorts and a little tank top, knowing Nick will find this simpleness even sexier that any lace get-up I may find. I'm not sure what to do with myself – is he expecting for me to be waiting for him at the door? Naked in bed? I feel like a college freshman, unsure of how to act around the experienced frat boy. Finally, I just decide to get into bed, and I open one of my romance novels to take my mind off Nick momentarily.

A few minutes later, my world stops when I hear the front door open and close. My heart does a flip flop when I begin to hear his strong footsteps sounding on the floorboards, the keys scurry across the counter, and he clears his throat that way that turns my insides to mush. My heart starts racing and I feel my face blush, knowing that in only a few minutes, we're going to take that final step in our relationship, joining our bodies together as one. We've come so close before, but it had never felt quite right.

I feel his footsteps approaching the door, and decide to keep my eyes on my book. He'd probably think I was a nerd if he knew how much I'd been thinking about this moment all day. I pretend to be into the chapter, skimming my eyes over the black lettering, reading the same thing two or three times. Finally, the door opens, and I sense his muscled frame moving towards me. I look at up at him from my book when he comes to sit on the edge, letting his hand come to rest on my covered hip. He's still dressed in the dark blue, slightly faded jeans and black short-sleeved shirt that hugs his biceps in all the right places. When I take in his face, he has a look of fondness and adoration that makes me feel like I'm the only other person in the world. Then his laugh lines appear as he smiles at what I'm reading.

"Getting in the mood?" He asks me, in his Texas drawl. Then, he takes the novel from my hand and flips it upside down – oh, wait. Crap. I hadn't even noticed it had been the wrong way up. I blush and look down at my hands. "Reading books upside down." He comments, shaking his head. "You seem distracted. What on earth could you be thinking about?" Nick laughs a little, and then sets my book on the bedside table.

"I've been thinking about you all day." I tell him, taking in that familiar kind face, his sun-kissed skin, that perfectly sculpted chest that's hiding behind his t-shirt.

"I can't stop thinking about you." He whispers.

Nick reaches out and strokes my hair a little, just smiling down at me and looking at me. If only he know what his simple gaze does to me – it makes me feel like I'm the only other person in the world, and that he's never seen anything so beautiful. I've never thought I was beautiful, but the way he looks at me makes me view myself differently.

Finally, he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, then lets his face linger near mine. His fingers tenderly touch the side of my face, then trace the outline of my lips as he stares deep into my eyes. When I feel his perfect lips close over mine, I just want to come undone in his arms. I respond to his kisses immediately, working my lips passionately against his – something we've done now many times, but the sensation always feels new and amazing.

Nick stands up and pulls the covers back, not taking his lips from mine, and suddenly I feel very exposed. He pulls back and takes in the site of my attire, and he lets out an audible groan.

"Sidle, you don't know what you do to me." He tells me, his lips now latching on to the side of my neck. His left hand goes to my waist, and I can feel the warm heat of his hand even through the fabric. As we kiss passionately, our tongues mingling and tasting each other's sweet kisses, his fingers work their way under my top to the skin at my side. I let out a whimper at his touch – if that's all it takes to make me feel this hot, he's going to have a pretty easy job.

My hands have planted themselves on his neck and one of his biceps, just clinging as he continues his seduction. His hand works its way down, giving several long strokes over my hip and thigh, sending shivers through each inch of skin he touches. I realize things are definitely getting heated when he repositions himself, coming to settle between my legs, hovering over me. My legs fall open to give him room as our mouths continue to mingle and devour each other. His hand returns to the tiny strip of exposed skin between my panties and tank top, teasing me, just rubbing and stroking back and forth. We're both breathing heavily now, and I can feel that familiar sensation building in the base of my belly. Nick's hands both go to my hips, grinding his hips against mine, and I can feel his arousal building. I reach down and start to unbutton his jeans, anxious to free him from the confines.

He seems just as eager as me, finally resorting to standing up and kicking his jeans off, and stripping his shirt over his head, leaving him in just his boxers. When he returns to the same position this time, he leans down and presses a kiss to the exposed skin just above my panties, and it's hard for me to keep quiet. I let out an audible whimper, watching his mouth plant tender kisses on my soft skin. His hands go to my sides, almost holding me in place as they simultaneously start to push my tank top up bit by bit, branding each piece of newly exposed skin with a wet, open-mouthed kiss. He worships my belly, kissing everywhere he can find, his fingers pressing gently into my side, as I stroke his hair lovingly. No one else has ever paid such special attention to me, and I can't believe how long I've gone without it. There's no rush to it, both of us wanting to take this slow, savoring every minute.

My breathing increases still when he places his hands palm down on my now fully exposed belly, using his fingertips to slowly push the material over my breasts, heaving from my heavy breathing patterns. His finger tips brush over my already pert nipples, as his eyes take in this newly exposed flesh. He kisses the side of one, resting his large warm and my stomach, caressing gently. His mouth returns again to mine, and I feel his hand make a large, firm stroke over my left breast. I arch into his touch, returning his kiss hungrily.

"Nicky…" I gasp as his mouth closes over my right nipple. He sucks on my nipple quite forcefully, my chest rising from the bed in response to the sensation. His tongue laves over both of my pert nipples, causing them to rise to attention.

"You taste so good Sara." He whispers huskily, as he continues to devour both of my breasts. My hand is playing in his short hair, and I'm just admiring the view of his naked back – so muscular and strong. The muscles in his arms ripple in such a delectable way as his hands move to touch me all over. His left hand reaches my right side – right where my still big ugly scar sits. Nick's mouth returns to mine, kissing me tenderly as he runs a finger up and down the scar. I'd had my reservations about Nick's commitment to me after seeing him with that woman at work, but I realize now that his touch is just for me. Everyone has a past – and our pasts have brought us together right now, to this steamy, erotic present.

Nick's lips leave mine and he kisses my cheek, then my neck, my collarbone, my breast, and finally lands at the top of that long scar. His tongue snakes out and gives it a little taste. I still think it's ugly as hell, and try to avoid looking at it at any cost, and I certainly don't want him concentrating on it. How can he even manage to look at it, let alone touch it with that godly mouth?

"Nick…" I whine impatiently, pulling on his arm to get him away from the gash, but he doesn't budge. He continues to kiss it tenderly, like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I love your scar." He tells me, tracing his finger from the top down to where it disappears into my panties. His finger dips into my boy shorts, teasingly, and runs it under the elastic.

"I hate it." I tell him honestly. Though it's healing, it's still a disgusting combination of red and purple, the edges of it turning into a pale scar tissue. In short, it's revolting.

More kisses to the scar.

"It reminds me what a strong woman you are, Sara." He tells me between adoring kisses. "That you've been through hell, but you made it through. You're amazing, Sar."

Well, when he puts it that way it doesn't sound so bad. To me, it's always been a representation of how stupid I can be. I let my guard down at a crime scene, and that's what I got. I should have been paying more attention, but that creep sprung on me, and attacked me. My scar has been my punishment – a reminder of one of my many screw-ups.

"There's nothing you could have done, Sara." Nick whispers, as if he just read my mind. I mean, there were supposed to be officers there to protect us, but somehow that didn't quite work out. "But do you know why I really love your scar?"

I whimper as I feel Nick pull down my panties on my right side. His lips follow my scar as it dips lower, and towards my bottom. Nick's hands gently turn me to the side, as he laves every inch of that scar with his tongue. I can't take my eyes off his face, just anticipating every move he is making. No one has ever had me this excited.

Nick sits up a little as he lets me lay flat on my back once again, his hands going to both of my hips, and his face hovers above mine. "It's what brought us together." His lips descend on mine again passionately, tilting his head to take it deeper every second. It's almost enough to distract me from the sensation of his hands slowly tugging my panties off my hips, but not quite. He never breaks his kisses as he raises both my legs up in the air, ridding them of the only piece of clothing I had left. I whimper at the feeling of being totally exposed and vulnerable. With past boyfriends, I have felt uncomfortable and self-conscious, but not with Nick. He's made it clear that he worships my body, with all its imperfections.

Nick's rock-hard body is hovering above me, his muscles abs and pecs too perfect to resist touching. I feel his muscles quivering as I rake my fingernails over his bare flesh, and he takes in a sharp breath as my finger trails lower. Still in his boxers, he grinds himself against my naked hips, and I feel his arousal pressed against my stomach. His fingers touch the apex of my thighs, testing my readiness. I moan as his talented hand works at my most sensitive area, circling gently as his tongue continues to sweep my mouth, swallowing my sounds. My hips instinctively lift off the mattress at his electrifying touch. He knows the perfect pressure to send me reeling, and I gaze into his eyes as he continues to work me with his fingers.

My hand finds its way into his boxers, his manhood already fully erect and throbbing. I close my hand around the impressive girth, thinking about how perfect he'll feel inside me. His hips buck into my hand, as I work mine up and down his length, feeling him harden even more beneath my touch.

"Sar…" He moans, attaching his lips to my neck. "I don't think I can wait much longer."

"So take me." I whisper hungrily, giving him another lustrous stroke. He closes his eyes in response, letting out another masculine moan. That seems to be all the convincing Nick needs, as he quickly strips his boxers off and positions himself between my quivering thighs. Our eyes never leave each other, as he puts my arms around his neck, bracing his weight on his left forearm, his right hand going to my hip to help guide himself in.

He finally enters me slowly, in one sleek thrust, his member stretching me in the most delectable way. I let out a sound that I don't think I've ever made before – the sound of a woman completely giving herself to a man. And up to this point, I've never let a man take me like this, letting him completely take the lead. I've never been a fan of this position, but being trapped between the mattress and Nick is my new favorite place in the world.

Nick fills me up to the hilt, and stops to allow me to adjust to him. His size is definitely impressive, ladies, and it feels amazing.

"You okay, baby?" He asks me, observing my already heavy breathing and the way my head fell back into the pillow.

"Perfect." I tell him, capturing his lips with mine again. He returns my kiss tenderly, as his hips begin to move slowly. I'm achingly aware of each rock hard inch of him inside me, creating sensations that are beyond words. Within just a few thrusts, I'm whimpering and moaning as he moves inside me.

One hand behind my neck, and one stroking my side, Nick moves gently inside me, as if he's afraid he's going to break me. I wrap my legs around his hips, inviting him deep still, my hands stroking over his muscular back. He kisses me tenderly, our lips mingling with each other as we both breathe heavily. I still can't believe that Nick Stokes is doing this to me. Weeks ago, I never thought that he was interested in nerdy me, but now I have him in my bed having the best sex of my life. There's such love in his eyes; love that I have never found until now.

After several minutes of slow, tender lovemaking, Nick lets out a groan and repositions himself on his knees, holding me to him hooking his arms around my shoulders. He quickens the pace, immediately causing me to moan in pleasure at the sensation. Nick swallows my sounds with a passionate kiss as his hips begin to pound into mine more forcefully. Then he buries his face in my neck and it doesn't take long for both of us to slip over that edge. Not even Nick's kisses can stifle my moans of pleasure.

Nick pulls out of me and gives me a long, slow, kiss, and we both struggle to catch our breaths.

"Wow." Is all I can say as he settles onto the bed next to me. I turn to face him as he pulls a sheet up over our naked bodies.

"That was amazing Sara." He tells me, cupping my face in his strong hand, covering my lips with his. "I love you, Sar." He whispers to me, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I smile through tears. Damn! Why do I have to get so emotional! "I love you too, Nick."

Nick pulls my body closer to his, so I'm half laying on his strong body, stroking my naked back up and down. It doesn't take long before we're both asleep – right where both of us belong. In each other's arms.

A/N 2: Hey again! I'm not sure if I'm totally satisfied with this chapter, but I've been working on it forever and just wanted to get it out! Is this a good place to end, or do you think I should keep going – and where? Thanks for your support and input, and don't forget to review!!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Woooo! The final chapter is finally here. It's been…eh….four months. Sorry. I hope you enjoy this final installment, and thanks to everyone for sticking with me. Without further ado, please enjoy (and review!)…

The next morning, I wake up, feeling that delectable ache between my legs that can only come from a night of great love-making. Never in my life has someone been inside my head so much – knowing exactly what I want and how I want it. Our first time together was totally amazing. And the second. And the third. Vivid memories race through my mind of the night before. Bare skin on bare skin, lips and hands roaming wherever they could reach, our hips connecting and moving together like they were always meant to be. I'm laying now in his arms, spooned against his strong chest, his nose resting at the nape of my neck. I smile, knowing this is exactly where I belong. If I can wake up like this every morning for the rest of my life, I would never ask for anything else.

I let out a long, satisfied sigh and snuggle in closer to the man of my dreams. He lets out an incredibly sexy groan and I feel his hand stroke back and forth a couple times on my bare stomach.

"Morning, gorgeous." He murmurs, causing my belly to flutter just by the sound of his voice. I feel a tender kiss land where my shoulder meets my neck, and then his lips move up to my jaw and then my cheek. I moan appreciatively and turn in his arms so I can look at his beautiful face. Nick is perfectly disheveled in the morning, his hair ruffled in the most adorable way. His eyes are only halfway open, groggily gazing at me. I love the way that Nick looks at me. Sometimes his gaze is almost too much, as if he's seeing right through me and into my soul. It's amazing how he can make me feel so special without even saying a word.

"Morning." I whisper, smiling at him, and reaching out to stroke his cheek. A single white cotton sheet is covering our worn out bodies, the morning sun beginning to barely peek through the blinds.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks me, tucking a stray piece of hair out of the way. His bare chest is peeking out from under the sheet, and his strong bicep flexes as he strokes my hair.

"Great." I tell him, gazing into his eyes. "Just a little sore." I admit, smiling a little. Nick chuckles, his laugh lines making his debut that morning, knowing he is the cause of this soreness.

"Sorry, babe. Anything I can do to help?" He asks with a hint of mischief in his voice. I giggle as I feel his hand begin to stroke up and down my right side, but it's quickly stopped by his soft lips descending on mine. He works his mouth gently, but with a sense of urgency, over mine like I might disappear if he doesn't devour me right then.

I whimper as his tongue probes my mouth and I feel him push me on to my back. His velvety lips continue to work their magic with mine, gently nipping and kissing. Nick's hand begins to tease by feather touching back and forth just above the sheet over my breasts. My own hands are beginning to stroke up and down his strong naked back, reveling in how his muscles are moving as he works. A couple moments later, he pulls back from the kiss and slowly pulls the sheet down just enough to expose my breasts. I giggle as he moans at the sight and lowers his head to my mounds. The next few minutes he spends gently nipping, sucking, and kissing, causing me to whimper at his ministrations.

He leans back up to kiss me deeply as his hand returns to stroke my right breast several times, before going lower and lower, taking the sheet with it. I'm already having trouble breathing, so Nick breaks the kiss and looks down to where his hand is traveling, stroking and rubbing at my belly. Soon, he's readjusting his position, kissing down my sternum, breasts, and to my bare stomach. He showers my belly with wet, open-mouthed kisses, slowly working lower and lower, until his strong hands reach down and part my legs.

The next few minutes are total bliss as I watch his dark head buried between my legs. His expert mouth and tongue work insistently at me, responding to my every sound and movement. As I feel the pleasure building deep in my belly, he holds my hips in place as I feel my whole body shudder in an explosion of satisfaction. He presses one last kiss between my legs and then leans up to give me a deep kiss. I can taste myself on his lips, the idea strangely arousing.

"Is that better, sweetheart?" He asked huskily, his hand stroking up and down my hip and upper thigh.

"Much." I giggle. Before I know it, he's flipped us over so that now I'm on top of him, straddling his hips. I can feel his hardness between my thighs as I feel his arms close around me, pulling me down for a deep kiss. One of my hands goes between us and finds his hard length, giving him several enticing strokes. Nick groans and his lead falls back farther into the pillow. Carefully, I guide the large tip of him at my opening and slowly lower myself down.

When he's completely filled me, I lean forward again to kiss him tenderly, and his hands go to my hips. I slowly begin to grind myself down on him, his strong hands gently guiding my movements. He kisses and nips at my neck and collar bone as I move with more speed, his hips thrusting up into mine.

I put my hands on either side of his head to look at his face, filled with pleasure and love. His hands move over my back as I move up and down, occasionally giving my breasts and bottom a squeeze. The only sounds in the room are our heaving, labored breathing, and our bodies working delectably together as one.

After a couple minutes, I lay my chest back down so it's flush with his, and allow him to take over. His arms go around my back and he embraces me as he thrusts up more vigorously into me.

"Oh, God…Nick." I whimper as his length moves around inside of me. Nick groans as he continues, thrusting even harder and faster. Our lips meet in a long, sensual kiss before he flips us once again so he is on top. We are both so close, and he picks up the rhythm even more, his hips pumping quickly into mine. Not long afterwards, we're both moaning loudly as he empties himself inside me, feeling ebbs of pleasure flow throughout our bodies.

Nick kisses my forehead tenderly as he pulls out and collapses on the bed next to me. We kiss slowly, letting our tongues mingle as we both breathe heavily, and look into each other's eyes.

CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI

About half an hour later, we finally manage to drag ourselves out of bed. I put on my boy shorts and tank top once again and Nick finds his boxers and we wander out to the kitchen to find some food. I turn on the radio, flipping to my favorite station as Nick gets the Cheerios from on top of the refrigerator. Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man" comes on, and I smile. I start dancing ridiculously as I make my way over to the cupboard to get some bowls out, shaking my hips and singing along rather badly.

Nick raises his eyebrows as he watches me make a fool out of myself. Normally, I would be totally self-conscious, but somehow around Nick I find myself not caring. Hell, he's seen me completely naked, what could I ever have to be embarrassed about around him ever again? I dance over to him and turn around, grinding my butt teasingly against his groin area, and I hear him clear his throat and know that he is smiling. He playfully swats my rear end.

"That type of dancing is gonna get you in trouble." He tells me, turning me around to face him. I just smile as I lean in to kiss him seductively, letting out a faint moan.

"You got soul, you got class. You got style, you bad ass." I sing along to the song, working my hands into the waistband of his boxers at the back, giving his rear end a squeeze. Nick extracts my hands and puts them down at my sides.

"Enough, Aguilera." He tells me, grabbing the Cheerios again. "If you keep doing that, we'll never leave this apartment again."

"Would that be so bad?" I ask him honestly, as he opens the box and starts pouring some cereal into one of the bowls. Who needs food, water, air, when you have Nick Stokes?

Nick gives me a smirk as he pours me some. "If you wanna keep your job, it is." He points out as I grab the milk from the refrigerator. I set it out for him to pour as I take a seat on the counter next to him. After he's made breakfast for both of us, he hands me my bowl and spoon and then picks up his own, leaning against the counter opposite me.

"So, what do you suppose we do today?" He asks as he chomps down on the whole grain cereal. Damn, even the way he chews is sexy. It takes everything in me not to jump on him.

"You mean besides each other?" I deadpan, smirking and keeping my eyes on the bowl in my hand. He predictably scoffs and sighs a little.

"Sidle, you have such a dirty mouth. Now as much as I would enjoy staying in this apartment all day and having mind-blowing sex with you over and over, what would you think about taking a little trip?" He poses, taking another bite and studying me as I sit on the counter.

I look up at him suspiciously, wondering exactly what this would entail. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer, and I can see a little smile forming on his face.

"Just what do you have planned, Stokes?" I ask him, loving this unpredictable side of him and getting to know much better.

Nick reaches behind him into a drawer and rummages around a little until he produces two pieces of paper and hands them to me with a look of mischief on his face. I snatch the papers from him, giving him a teasing glare and then narrow my eyes. Two plane tickets. To San Francisco.

"San Francisco?" I ask him as I look from the tickets back up to his face. He nods and stirs the cereal around a little more.

"Mmmhmmm. To go visit your mom." He informs me.

I feel my heart melt as I look over at the man who continues to surprise me again and again. It had been last week that I'd confessed to him how I was thinking about my mother, and how I wished she had what I had. I can't believe how in tune he is with me. I need to see my mother, to let her know that despite everything that happened when I was a child, that I was okay. She needed to know that her little girl had turned out just fine (though sometimes I really do wonder if that's true).

I look up at Nick, letting out an emotional breath, seeing tears cloud my eyes. I think I manage a small smile before I jump off the counter and practically leap into his arms. Nick barely has a chance to set his cereal bowl down before I crash into him, hugging him so tight that I might be cutting off his air. No one I've ever dated has ever done something like this for me. This man needs to be nominated for sainthood.

"Are you…I mean, are you sure you wanna do this?" I ask him, pulling back, but still keeping my arms around his neck. Nick's thumbs delicately stroke my skin between my tank top and panties as he looks into my eyes.

"Of course." He tells me immediately. "I know how much you want to see her."

I take in a shaky breath and look again into his eyes, wondering how I ever came to deserve this man. Nick's hands go to cup my face and his thumbs gently wipe the tears away from my cheeks. He then presses the lightest and most caring kiss to my forehead.

"I can't believe you did this, Nick. Thank you." I tell him, heartfelt as I rub his strong upper arms appreciatively.

"My pleasure, babe." He whispers, and leans in for a slow, tender kiss.

CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI

Hours later, we are sitting in a taxi cab in San Francisco, California, where I haven't been for at least six years. I avoid it like the plague. There's just too many bad memories here, and I'd rather not have to revisit them. However, today I'm here to get a little closure and take a positive step in my life, and oh yeah, I have Nick Stokes with me.

Nick senses that I'm deep in thought and nervous, and takes my hand as the cab pulls on to the road that leads to the California State Women's Penitentiary. He gives it a light squeeze and studies my face. Letting out a shaky breath, I turn my head towards his.

"It's gonna be fine, baby." He assured me in a little more than a whisper. I offer him a small smile and nod my head. I know that Nick's been in prisons before and even visited an inmate after his whole buried alive experience, but I don't think he realizes how hard it is to visit your own mother behind bars. I feel myself falling in love with all over again for being willing to come with me for this hard experience. It's so heartbreaking to see your own mother – the person who took care of you, and tried her best to protect you – behind a plexiglass barrier in an orange jump suit. You know she's there because she was trying to save you from your abusive father. She sacrificed her own life so that you could have a chance at a normal one.

I know it would mean the world to her to see that I am coping. I haven't become one of those screwed up sociopaths that happens so often when a child witnesses something so violent and horrible.

The cab pulls up to the booth that sits just outside the ten-foot high fence with barbed wire sitting at the top. We display our id's and confirm why we are here, and the gate opens to let us in. Nick pays the cab driver as I step out, looking up at the building that's been imprisoning my mother for almost thirty years. Suddenly, I'm not sure if I want to go in, but Nick's strong and supportive hand on my back reassures me.

"You ready?" He whispers, his voice low and barely audible as he watches my face. I look at him and barely nod. He takes hold of my hand again and he tugs me along to the front entrance.

After being through metal detectors and showing our id's to several armed guards, Nick and I are eventually led into the visitation area. The guard leads us to a booth with two chairs and a phone where I sit down nervously. I guess I've been forgetting to breathe steadily, so Nick rubs my back, causing my muscles to relax a bit.

"Just take a few deep breaths." He advises me, watching me closely for any sign that I might be losing it. I nod and shudder, taking in a few shaky breaths. Seconds later, we hear one of the steel doors open loudly on the other side, and a jumpsuited form comes in to view, with a guard following close behind. In all my years, I could never conceive how anyone could think of this woman as dangerous. Throughout my childhood, she was always the most tender, loving, caring mother you could imagine.

Finally, my mother's face comes in to view as she sits down in the visitor's chair on the other side. I cannot even describe the look on her face – just that she is a frail woman, so ecstatic to see a familiar face after being lonely for so long. There is so much love in her face – paired with regret. I know that she doesn't regret what she did, just what effect it has had on me and my brother. We all know that if she hadn't done what she did, one of us would have fallen victim to our father's uncontrollable temper. And though she was locked up, somehow she was okay with that.

She slowly reaches out and touches the glass with a look of pure adoration on her face. I reach my hand out also, and our hands touch, separated by a mere barrier of plexiglass, and the distance of being apart for years.

"Sara." I see her lips say.

"Momma!" I say tearfully, just staring at her, wishing I could just touch her; hug her; kiss her. Nick reaches behind my back and picks up the telephone and gently hands it to me so I can talk to her. My mother doesn't take her eyes off me as she reaches for the telephone on her side. Our hands are still up to the plexiglass, as if we are somehow feeling each other's skin.

"Baby, it's so good to see you." She tells me, pride and emotion in her voice. I can tell how proud of me she is, and it's that faith she has in me that seems to keep me going every day. "You look so great."

My mother's body has taken a toll from being in prison for so long. Her undereyes are baggy from never being able to get good sleep. Her body looks tired and frail from lack of sun and real exercise, and if I do dare say, lack of being loved.

"I'm so glad to see you too." I sniffle, looking into her eyes. It's amazing that after pretty much not speaking for years, I can't seem to think of anything to say to her. I mean, what do you say? How's prison life treating you? How's the food?

"How've you been?" She asks me.

"I've been fine." I swallow and try to compose myself a little more. She nods and just keeps looking at me, as if trying to engrain the sight of me into her mind.

"Do you still like your work?"

"Yes." I tell her. "Very much."

I see her eyes stray away from me for the first time and fall upon Nick. I'd almost forgotten he was there, having been so engrossed by seeing my mother for the first time in years. His hand stroking my back reminds me of his comforting presence.

"I see you brought someone with you." She whispers, smiling a little bit. "Who's this handsome young man?"

I manage a little chuckle and look over at Nick who smiles at me.

"Uh…This is Nick." I begin. "He, uh…he's one of my coworkers, but I wanted you to meet him because he recently became my boyfriend."

Mom smiles in understanding, like a mother who's just met her teenage daughter's prom date. She knows how exciting and completely wonderful new love is, and I think she can sense just how happy I am.

"Ohhh…" She comments knowingly, looking Nick over. "Nice to meet you Nick." She says to him through the glass. Nick nods, having read her lips, and waves a little at her.

"Good to finally meet you too." He tells my mother politely.

"I can tell he's making you happy." She looks at me again, her eyes shining again with pride.

"You can?" I feel myself getting a little emotional again, and Nick's hand comes back to life on my back.

My mother nods knowingly, her own eyes becoming a little teary as she smiles at me faintly.

"That's one of the reasons I came, mom." I tell her, and take a deep breath to control myself. It takes me a few moments before I can start again. "I wanted you to know that even after everything…I found someone who treats me right, momma. I'm completely in love with Nick, and I know that he loves me back. And he'd never do anything to hurt me."

My mother can't stop the tears from coming now, and I can't either. Later, Nick will tell me that he had to try so hard to keep himself from falling apart. He could tell how much pride she has in me, and that me being happy meant the world to her.

"That's all I ever wanted for you, Sara." She confesses tearfully. "You have no idea what that means to hear from you. You make me so proud, baby."

I let out a sob and reach my hand out once again to touch the glass. Everything I do, every step that I take and every decision I make, I wonder if what I'm doing would make my mom proud.

"I love you, mom. And I just wanted to let you know that what happened…I'm not letting it control my life. And I'll never forget what you did for me."

It feels so good to get the words out, and a relief to see what an effect it has on my mom. I can tell this means the world to her, and in turn that means the world to me. A couple years down the road, when I became a mother myself, I find there's nothing that brings me greater joy than seeing my two daughters and son happy and healthy. Every smile, every giggle, every hug and kiss, I am reminded of how lucky I am, and just what my mother did for me. And I understand that through my successes, my mother experiences a great sense of joy and pride, just as my heart swells when one of my own children succeeds.

The rest of my visit with my mother is a bit of a blur. There was a sense of relief, and lots of tears, but lots of smiling and joy. I got what I came here for, a sense of closure and letting my mom know how grateful I was. Not just for what she did, but for her unconditional love.

CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI

I'm laying now in bed once again in Nick's strong arms, his naked chest flush against my bare back as we awaken to the sound of a baby crying. Nick's hand lovingly rubs my stomach in a sleep-laced offer of comfort. He groans and kisses my neck gently several times.

"I'll go." He whispers as he slowly sits up in bed. I turn on to my back as he looks down at me, and then bring his head down for a slow, tender kiss. After a few moments, he breaks off the kiss and smiles down at me. He slowly gets out of bed and pulls on his boxers, then hurries out the door and towards our daughters' room.

I hear the muffled sound of Nick cooing and trying to comfort one of our twin daughters. Almost immediately, she stops her crying, and I know Nick has picked her up in his arms and brought her to his chest, rocking her gently back and forth. She gurgles a little and I picture the sight of Nick standing in the middle of the nursery, a baby girl in his arms as he gently strokes her back.

I smile when, moments later, I hear some light music come on in the girls' room. We'd bought some of those Baby Einstein CD's, and found that it offers both Carly and Becca a great deal of comfort. Paired with being cuddled, it calms them both right down whenever they wake up during the night in distress.

I decide I definitely do not want to be left out of this moment, so I quietly crawl out of bed and throw on my robe before tiptoeing across the hall. I can't help but smile as I stop at the doorframe of the girls' room and see Nick dancing ever so gently with Carly in his arms. My baby girl has her fingers in her mouth, resting her head against her daddy's shoulder as he moves. As Nick turns, he sees me and smiles, and then kisses the top of Carly's head.

I slowly cross the room and come to put one arm around my gorgeous, wonderful husband, and the other hand gently strokes the head of one of the loves of my life. Being a mother is indescribable. I never thought I could love a tiny person as much as I love Carly and Becca, and I find that love grows stronger every day. When I fell in love with Nick, I thought my heart could not get any fuller, but I have been pleasantly surprised and blessed with these two little girls.

As we move ever so slowly, another gurgle sounds in the room, and soon Becca is awake and demanding a little attention. I let out a sympathetic sound as I walk to her crib and find her tiny fists clenched and her arms moving around. Carefully, I pick her up into my arms and bring her to my chest and then walk over to join my husband with her twin sister.

Together, in the wee hours of the dawn, Nick and I rock there gently with our two perfect baby girls, the product of our undying and uncompromising love for each other as Mozart plays softly in the background. As we move, I feel Nick's hand very slowly dip into the front of my robe and his finger very gently trace that faded but still present scar that marks the right side of my body. I sigh into his touch, remembering just how much I hated that scar to begin with, but how Nick always lovingly reminded me that it was how we were finally brought together. And as I lean up to softly kiss him, I can't help but wonder, how could something so wonderful come out of such a horrible thing? I'm not sure if I can answer that, but I have to say it's the best thing that ever happened to me.

A/N 2: I totally stole the ending from "Nine Months". Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed this story, and I apologize for the loooong hiatus. I hope you enjoyed it. : )


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